The Shield Of Achilles
by thebackupkid
Summary: A war rages between two rival sides; The Extradites and The Dissenters. Annabeth Chase of The Extradites begins to question her role in the world after the leaders abandon their charges. When she rescues her enemy Percy Jackson, she realises that her doubts and questions were only the beginning of an impending storm.
1. Saviour

**The Shield of Achilles**

"_The Gods envy us. They envy us because we're mortal, because any moment may be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again."_

_ - Homer, "The Iliad"_

**Chapter One: Saviour**

"_That's when she said I don't hate you boy. I just want to save you while there's still something left to save. That's when I told her I love you girl. But I'm not the answer for the questions that you still have."_

_ - Rise Against, 'Saviour'_

If there was one thing Annabeth hated more than her annoying affiliates, it was being summoned. Luke knew this but he continued to summon her anyway, at all hours of the day. Luckily for him, it was early in the evening and not 3AM like his last beckoning call where he merely wanted her opinion on whether their rivals where hiding somewhere in the forest like modern day Robin Hood and Merry men. Annabeth almost shot him.

Annabeth walked down the bare halls that once belonged to a rather remote boarding school but after the civil wars, had been transformed into the base of The Extradites, one of two main instigators in the struggle for power. She sighed, her young messenger walking silently ahead of her, shuffling through other messages he had to deliver. She adjusted her leather jacket on her shoulders, her hand absently brushing against her hip where her gun holster rested. A habit she had developed years ago.

It had not been an easy life for Annabeth. Abandoned at a young age, Annabeth had learned to fend for herself, not trusting others and getting anything she needed by any means necessary. She was caught one day stealing from a high class business woman and it was this act of fate that brought her to her current position. The woman, who Annabeth only found out later in custody was actually one of the leaders who organised and ran their country, admired her cunning, claiming Annabeth reminded her of herself at that age. She offered Annabeth a place to stay and from there, trained and taught Annabeth along with other orphans she had rescued over the years. Whenever Annabeth passed people in the street they muttered about her being, 'Athena's child,' and she couldn't be any prouder.

Annabeth was in her late teens when the fights broke out. Tensions had risen between the leaders and officials that led to a rift with dire consequences. The leaders picked sides, their followers and pupils that once were only taught with educational purposes were suddenly trained in combat and were forced to hunt and kill those of their leader's adversaries. Annabeth excelled in her physical training and Athena was quick to approve, entrusting Annabeth with her more delicate tasks.

Eventually the pupils outstripped their leaders and the battle for leadership overpowered even the calmest of minds. The leaders, shocked at their remaining followers' bloodlust, fled to parts unknown and hadn't been seen since. The people continued to fight for years and soon they forgot why they were fighting each other. Annabeth's coven, for lack of a better word, stood on the verge of becoming the leaders in the revolutionary country; their only enemies were a small contingent of renegades who preached for a more democratic place.

It was difficult for Annabeth to keep her annoyance at bay as they walked into the once impressive hall. It was one of the few sections of the school that was left standing after an attack almost a year ago. The hall was bleak and haughty with neglect beginning to seep into the walls. Annabeth had spent many a time in the hall, since her days scouting for rebels were nullified on Luke's orders. She had been placed on the council and being one of the senior, more excelled fighters and possibly the best strategist, she was supposed to be at every meeting and decision they made.

The pager directed her to a group of fighters huddled together, along with a few of the other members of the council. She thanked the boy who scuttled off back the way they came, probably having to summon other people. Annabeth sighed inwardly as she shuffled towards them. Over the past few months, Annabeth had been feeling dejected with her people, watching friends and colleagues return on stretchers or body bags. She had begun to question the war, question her leaders and even began to question herself.

Annabeth was halfway across the hall when she realised the scouts, although grimy and bloodied, were smiling and relaying their information to a tall, broad man whose back was facing her. She didn't need to notice the short blonde hair to know it was Luke. His shoulders were taut and hunched, as they had been for a long time but when he lifted his head, he too was smiling. His pale blue eyes, rimmed with dark shadows turned to her and were sparkling with victory. He waved at his partners to finish the conversation later and strode to Annabeth.

"It's happened," Luke told her excitedly.

In his excitement, he pressed his lips against her forehead. A fleeting second of memories at his touch crossed Annabeth's mind but was quickly dispersed. It had been over a year since he had touched her, caressed her gently or even looked at her with a smile that she had long forgotten to wait for. She stared at him blankly, even though he was grinning triumphantly.

"You _summoned_," Annabeth said scathingly, not catching onto his mood.

"Annabeth, we did it!" Luke exclaimed with a happy laugh.

He was looking at her incredulously, waiting for her to join in the celebration. She shook her head exasperatedly, meaning she was waiting for his explanation. More members of Extradites wandered in, only to be ambushed by others whispering the news of our apparent victory. She watched as their eyes widened in disbelief, their faces breaking out into hesitant smiles.

"We captured the last fighters of the Dissenters."

"You did what?" Annabeth asked in surprise.

Luke laughed again and nodded, picking her up and twirling her in his arms. The people around them erupted into cheers and jubilant cries; high fiving, clapping and hugging, some were even crying. Annabeth was too shocked to join in her colleague's celebrations. It wasn't possible. They had been tracking these guys for six months without a trace of them and now they get captured.

Luke turned and faced the people, his arm wrapped heavily around a still stunned Annabeth's waist. He tried to address them but after a raucous precession, he was forced onto the old stage, pulling Annabeth with him. From there he began his speech, talking about the hard ship that was inflicted upon them, the losses suffered up to the triumph of capturing the most notorious of the resistance. He went into detail of their plan which lead to the incarceration but Annabeth tuned it out, including Luke's newfound affection towards her.

It wasn't that she wasn't happy about Luke's success because she was, but if it was true, then it meant that the feud between the two warring houses would finally be over. The captives would more than likely be executed, as soon as everyone had gathered in the hall. Luke was smart enough to know none of them would disclose any information regarding their base location and the last few they kept prisoner was classified as a waste of resources. So once they were killed, what did that mean for Annabeth?

Luke whistled loudly, rallying the crowd in chorus of their motto. Annabeth used this to break away from his grip, gazing towards the front double doors of the hall. Another round of shouts and the doors opened. The crowded members moved to the side as the scouts brought in the prisoners. Annabeth looked over and saw Thalia hovering at the edge. She had lit a cigarette, leaning against the wall, arms folded gazing at the precession with disdain. Thalia caught Annabeth's eye, drew out a long breath of smoke, shook her head and peeled herself from the wall and left out of the side door, smoke curling around her head in her wake.

Annabeth couldn't blame her. Despite knowing they were to present a united front, she would rather be with Thalia; away from the hall and the execution about to take place. From her place at the stage, Annabeth watched the four prisoners lumber forward, hindered with injuries inflicted by her people. There was one in particular, second to last, who was struggling more than the others to move forward. He was shaking from head to toe and his legs appeared to be bowed or deformed in some way. His head was dipped low so Annabeth could only see his curly brown hair. The man behind him tried to help out his fallen comrade but was pushed back in line behind him.

The captives were brought to the centre of the hall and were lined up to face Luke and Annabeth. The crowd, who had been jeering, booing and hissing fell silent and anticipation. Four men stood before Annabeth, ranging from two big broad, short shaved men, to the small, limping man and the average man at the end. Luke gave the signal and took Annabeth's hand again. The first of the broader man was shoved forward onto a small dais. He was forced to kneel as the executioner, a big man with a coarse beard and permanent scowl, came and stood beside him, his customary gun in his hand. Annabeth avoided him and therefore didn't know his name.

"Let this be a message to the rebels that oppose us," Luke cried out. The room was silent. Luke reached back and grabbed Annabeth's escaping hand. "We aren't the ones that are going to fall! We, will be victorious!"

With a nod to the man, the first rebel fell after a gun shot. Annabeth pulled her hand from Luke's taking a step back. She kept the revulsion from her face as the crowd roared their approval. Fifty faces all crazed and joyous for the murder of innocent, well not innocent but unarmed prisoners. Annabeth felt sick. The second captive struggled as he was brought upwards but he was soon subdued.

The small, curly brown haired prisoner didn't fight and perhaps was the worst of them. Tears streamed down his cheeks but he kept his silence. He refused to stare at Luke but turned to face the crowd. Annabeth stepped forward, her eyes on the back of his skull. It wasn't until the last captive in line looked up. His eyes were pained but he gave the man a swift nod and a small perk of his lips that might have supposed to be a smile. The lone captive flinched when the gunshot sounded but never took his eyes off of the curly haired prisoner as he collapsed lifeless to the dais. Annabeth felt a stab of remorse understanding they were friends. Annabeth studied the man, ignoring her feelings.

The last captive was covered in cuts that oozed blood that didn't seem to trouble him. Luke's grin turned malicious as the captive was brought forward. Annabeth deduced he must have been the leader, or at least the strongest fighter. His shoes had been taken, his jeans cut in several places along with his legs. His shirt hung limply from his shoulders. Annabeth had to admire him; by his appearance he had put up the biggest fight. The jeering from the scout party confirmed her suspicion.

He fell to his knees when he was pushed onto the platform and into the light. His black hair hung around his bowed head like a curtain, obscuring his face. He slowly raised his head to face Luke, ignoring everyone else leering and staring at him. Hatred, mixed with grief etched every pane of his face, making him look like a feral animal. Annabeth had seen executions many times but this man in front of her made it seem different, almost wrong. Sure, a lot of the captives were angry, upset, or simply subdued to the fact of their oncoming death but he, although angry, still had not given up.

Annabeth watched him and with each second closer to his death brought more the sense of foreboding dread. Luke signalled for the executioner to walk forward. There was a sneer on Luke's face. Annabeth looked at Luke and almost recoiled. This was the Luke that Annabeth had come to know; the one so focused on winning that he removed humanity out of the equation.

"At last," murmured Luke with a growl.

The gun was placed to the temple of the victim. His green eyes seethed, never once blinking. Annabeth had realised that Luke wanted to taunt this man until his last breath left. The executioner was taking his time, prolonging the inevitable. That was why this man went last; he had to suffer. The safety was clicked 'off'.

"Stop!"

The word sprang to Annabeth's lips before she even knew she was thinking it. The executioner glanced up in surprise, pulling the gun away from the man's head. Luke swivelled to her, his face anguished. Annabeth didn't flinch from the stares upon her but there was one set of eyes that remained fixed on Luke, ignoring Annabeth's continual attention.

"What are you doing?" Luke hissed.

Annabeth slowly turned to him. "He could be useful. I mean, look at him. Can't you see he doesn't care that you are about to kill him?"

"Because he is an animal that doesn't know any different," Luke snapped, trying to keep from yelling.

"Or he has information that he wants to die with him," Annabeth offered. Her excuses getting more elaborate as she tried to save this man who would not even think twice about killing her. Wasn't it only fifteen minutes earlier that she was thinking that none of them would expel hidden secrets from their lips, even with the reward being life?

Luke hesitated slightly, glancing at Annabeth with widened eyes. He shook his head as if trying to clear it. Annabeth felt the prisoner's eyes on her but this time she ignored him.

"Luke," Annabeth said softly. Inwardly cringing, she took him by the wrist and pulled him towards the back of the stage. He complied, although Annabeth thought he was still more in shock. "I can see there's a lot of animosity between the two of you."

"He deserves to die," Luke snarled, sobering from his shock. "He's a lowlife. He's tried several times to kill me!"

"And what about us, Luke?" she questioned. "We are trying to wipe them out. Look, I'm not saying he deserves special treatment –,"

"Like he's ever going to get any!"

"– but if we are ever going to finish this feud we need to know where the rest of them are. You can't seriously think these are the last of them?"

"He won't say anything," Luke said exasperated. "He's too …"

Whatever the captive was to Luke, Annabeth didn't hear. A riot had broken out in the hall and the captive was swarmed by the angry watchers. Annabeth leapt from the stage, screaming at them to stop. She didn't know if Luke had followed but she didn't care. She threw people out of her way, dodged punches that flew in her direction. Desperation drove her forward. Desperation gave her a voice as she screamed at them. She reached the middle where the prisoner was curled up in the foetal position, collecting the hits without a noise.

Annabeth didn't know how she managed it but the next thing she knew she was hovering protectively over the man still on the dais. She glared at the men and women who attacked him. They were staring at her in surprise, some holding broken limbs and others bleeding from cuts. She was breathing heavily, her eyes darting from each face, ready for the next attack. After a few seconds she realised they were waiting. Luke was still on the stage, watching the scene impassively.

"This man," Annabeth began. "Is the key to our victory. He can turn over his secrets and allow us to step forward in our pursuit for peace. And you just tried to kill him. While he is alive, he is under my jurisdiction. Anyone that touches him," she paused and gazed at each of them. "Will answer to me. Is that clear?" When silence ensured, Annabeth turned to the scouts. "Take him to the cells and guard him."

They did as they were asked, none too happy but knew better than to oblige. The crowd dissipated with many throwing angry glares at Annabeth. She ignored them, gazing around the hall and sighing quietly. Luke jumped from the stage once they were the only ones left. His face was hard to read but Annabeth saw the tightness of his shoulders, the deep set of his eyes. The happiness he had moments ago all but disappeared and Annabeth was once again left with the stone cold version of Luke Castellan.

"What's my punishment?" Annabeth asked defiantly, lifting her chin.

Luke continued to stare at her, not answering. They stood in silence for a long time but Annabeth was patient and she waited until Luke decided to speak. When he did, his eyes were on the podium, where the remnants of the prisoner's execution dripped onto the floor. Annabeth only glanced at it once before turning away sickened.

"He better start talking," Luke said quietly, turning to her again. "You've already claimed responsibility for him. So whatever he does comes back onto you."

Before Annabeth could react to his words, he lashed out, slapping Annabeth hard across the face. Her head snapped sharply to the side. Her teeth had cut the inner cheek and her bottom lip and she placed her hand up to stem the blood flow while trying to keep the tears from her eyes. Annabeth wanted to curl up into a ball and cry but with a deeply rooted stubbornness, she turned her hardened eyes to his, letting the hand cradling her cheek fall. He looked like he wanted to hit her again but abruptly turned and began to stride away.

"That was a cheap shot …" Annabeth muttered to his back.

"You wanted to know your punishment so I gave it to you. And if you defy me again," he faced her, eyes dark. He motioned to her cheek. "I will treat you like one of them and I won't hold back."

* * *

><p>Outside the makeshift prison, Annabeth retreated to the darkness of the corridor connected to the entrance. She slumped against the wall, her head in her hands, trying to breathe normally. The adrenaline had worn off not long after look stormed from the hall and Annabeth had been shaking from head to toe since. Whispers followed her as she was accompanied to the prison by one of her trusted associates. Annabeth couldn't hear their words but she knew that would all be the same question. Malcolm remained silent by her side, withholding his own questions.<p>

"I don't know why I saved him, Malcolm. I'm telling the truth," she told him, desperately wanting him to be on her side.

He looked at her, a little surprised by her sudden plea. He nodded, averting his eyes forward and Annabeth knew he wasn't convinced. It was almost with relief that Annabeth told him to go ahead while she had a moment to herself. She couldn't change what she had done but she didn't realise the repercussions would begin so soon. Annabeth straightened, brushing stray locks from her face. It didn't matter what happened next; she would always find a solution.

Annabeth walked forward with feigned confidence, entering the prison ten minutes later. It was strange to think that it used to be a school library. The books and shelves removed, burned when wood was scarce on the winter nights. The builders pulled all the stocks to fortify the prison so it became the strongest hold in their base. It had been empty for almost a year until Annabeth saved the incarcerated; Luke's mind had turned to more violent and permanent options for captives.

The newly appointed guards stood at either side of the entrance and permitted her entry with emotionless stares. She walked down the middle corridor, passing empty cells on both sides. Annabeth should have known they would place him in the last of the cells, where the roof caved in slightly at the corners so the lighting was extremely poor. The worst of the cabins was to Annabeth's right and it was there that she found the third guard, who turned out to be Kevin, one of her closest advisors. He gave her a faint smile and a shrug, indicating he had heard of the situation and hastened to have a say in the arrangements, for her sake. Annabeth nodded and was about to head in but Kevin made her stop with a hand to her arm.

"Did Luke hit you?" he asked in concern, gazing at her face with puckered eyebrows.

Annabeth started but realised she must have still had dried blood on her chin. She nodded, hastily wiping it away. Her tongue tested the swollen and tender skin of her inner cheek. Kevin gave her a sympathetic look but said no more on the subject.

"Is he really going to talk?" he asked softly, his head nodding towards the cell.

"I don't know," Annabeth murmured. She glanced away for a second before meeting his worried eyes. "I guess we'll find out." She went to go inside but Kevin's hand remained on her arm.

"Luke will only give you three weeks, a month at most until he kills him and then he'll turn on you." Kevin's eyes flitted to the guards on the door. "This Luke won't grant you mercy, Annabeth. No matter whom you use to be to him."

"I know, Kev," Annabeth said softly, giving him a faint smile. She could already feel her lip puffing up. "Thanks for volunteering for this job."

Kevin frowned, his blue eyes darkening. "Luke won't allow me to stay here for long. You're going to have to pull your resources if you're going to keep your prisoner half alive."

Annabeth nodded, already coming to this conclusion after Luke's dramatic exit. Kevin let her arm go and opened the door, allowing her to enter the room. The door was a durable form of what looked like plastic, with a small flap fitted near the bottom to place his meals through if he was released from his chains. The walls were refitted with an assortment of stone styled like a sort of mosaic. Pillars replaced the customary bars of the cell on either side of the door. The stone pillars were slightly thicker than ordinary steel bars and placed so closely together that Annabeth thought even her arm would struggle to fit through. She walked inside the dark cell as Kevin closed and locked the door behind her.

"I suppose I should thank you for saving my life," he said dryly.

Annabeth spotted him in the corner of his cell, masked in the shadows. A tinkle of chains suggested he shifted slightly. It was almost a torture in itself, Annabeth thought sadly. Their cell was large enough to be considered a reasonable sized empty bedroom but the prisoners were only limited to a small portion of it, enslaved by heavy iron chains.

"I didn't come here for gratitude," Annabeth said softly.

He gave a disbelieving snort. "I saw you at the hip of Mr. Superfluous Jackass. How can you kiss someone like that?"

Annabeth felt a faint blush paint her cheeks. "I'm not involved with Luke."

"Ah, I can see," he muttered and Annabeth knew he was referring to her lip. "Still, deserves congratulations from finally cleaving yourself from his side. Are you my interrogator then? It was a stirring speech you gave. All that crap about me having secrets in my brain you needed to preserve. Nice touch."

"Everyone has secrets. It wasn't a lie," Annabeth stated, crossing her arms across her chest.

"You're smart. I would never have suspected that of … well, your people."

"And you're a smart arse who doesn't know when to shut up," Annabeth snapped in frustration.

He wheezed out a laugh. "You're not the first one to tell me that."

There was a brief period of silence while Annabeth got her emotions under control. It had been a long time since someone had been able to get under her skin, let alone within minutes of their meeting together. He was her enemy, she told herself as if that was an excuse but in all honesty, Annabeth was befuddled by the pull towards him she was feeling.

"Who was your leader?" Annabeth asked, genuinely curious. "Before the war."

"Does it matter now?" he snorted. "Either way, they've pitted us against each other and pissed off when we didn't do as well as they hoped. Now we're left to deal with years of animosity and hatred, barely surviving with each other because we are led by incompetent replacements. We're fucked really, unless we can find a peaceful solution or one of us destroys the other clan."

"How can you think like that?" Annabeth stepped closer despite her plan to keep distance between them. "They might have started this feud with bad intentions but that doesn't mean we can't find a solution. You just need to see we aren't the enemies."

Annabeth heard him shift again and he shuffled into the light. His condition worsened in the few hours he had spent in his cage. The blood on his face had dried and cracked. Black hair mattered with dirt clung to the sides of his face and reaching towards his shoulders. He wore it longer and somewhat messier than Annabeth was accustomed to. His nose was still out of place and could not have been comfortable. Those green eyes that captivated her so much were brighter than ever against the blood and grime and were a pool of swirling hatred as he stared at her. He smiled thinly at her, making him appear to be a rather dangerous, rabid animal.

"No doubt who was your leader," he said sardonically. "Athena," his mouth chewed on the word as if it was something disgusting. "She always had the reputation to twist those to see her point of view, while planning their demise anyway. Quite the deceiver. Brilliant though. I cannot fault her on that but you seem to be lacking in her brilliance. 'You aren't the enemies?'" He raised his eyebrow in question. "How sheltered has Luke made you? We are the ones being hunted like animals. We are the ones who are dying and we, are the ones who have tried to make you see that your Extradites, are destroying everything."

"You bastard," Annabeth hissed.

She strode forward, her rage propelling her. She shouldn't have spared his life. He was the animal; a stray dog that needed to either put in his place or destroyed. Her left hand flung out and grabbed the front of his shirt. The few buttons that exposed his neck ripped and toppled to the ground as Annabeth pulled him towards her enraged face. He calmly stared back at her, unfazed by her closeness or the fist made in her right hand.

Annabeth was frozen, holding the shirt of the kneeling prisoner while she desperately urged her arm to lunge forward and slam her fist into his body. But she couldn't. He kept her stare, the contempt for her just swimming beneath the surface. He remained silent, which again was unusual. Prisoners often goaded their gaolers into attacking, provoking them. For some reason that she couldn't explain, Annabeth knew that he wasn't saying anything to just provoke her. He seriously believed that her and her colleagues were the bad guys. Annabeth tried to convince herself that it stood to reason that with every battle both parties believed they were doing the right thing, so why did she feel as though he was right?

She didn't know how long they were positioned like they were, with Annabeth battling her inner turmoil but she eventually loosened the grip on his shirt. The arm raised behind her slowly lowered to her side. She continued to gaze directly at him, trying to quell her surprise. She took a step back and then another, almost in slow motion. She finally looked away, staring down at her feet. Why couldn't she hit him?

He broke the silence. "That was, unexpected."

Annabeth slowly raised her head to face him again. Half of his face had receded into shadows but the half that she could still see had been wiped clean of emotion. He wasn't referring to her sudden angry outburst, or her lack of defence. She knew he was referring to her continual hesitancy against hurting him. She found she couldn't look at him anymore, her own actions confusing to her. She walked back towards the door, having enough for one day.

"Can I know your name?" Annabeth asked softly, her hand on the door.

"Luke didn't tell you?" he asked, slightly surprised. "Percy Jackson."

Annabeth's hand fell from the handle. She stared at him, her mouth dropping in shock. It couldn't be him, it just couldn't. She took in his appearance again, his apparent hostility towards Athena and what she stood for. Annabeth started breathing short pants, her shock almost overwhelming her.

"You're Poseidon's protégée?" she breathed, already knowing the answer.

He shrugged and looked around at his temporary lodgings before back to her. "I don't think he would count me as much nowadays but yes, there was a time when I was under his wing."

Annabeth took one last look at him. He was frowning at her reaction, wondering why his name had caused her so much distress. She had to leave. She couldn't stay with him anymore. She fled the room, ignoring Kevin's attempt of comforting her. She dimly recalled that he would have been able to hear everything. She past the guards and past Luke, who had been skulking in the shadows for a number of reasons Annabeth didn't want to think about. He called out to her but she ignored him too. She took a shortcut to her room and locked herself in. She fell against the door and slid down to the ground, her shaky hands cradling her head, reeling from her discovery.

Percy Jackson, the man who she had just saved, was Athena's sworn enemy and Annabeth was supposed to kill him if she was to be ever seen as 'Athena's child' again.

**Authors note: **

**Early twenties for most of the characters and if you hadn't already guessed, it is a modern AU. The title came to me while I was researching. As I delved into descriptions about The Shield of Achilles I started to realise how close it was with how I wanted to write this story. Simply, it depicts war and peace, and the calm before and impending doom but don't think this story is all grim.**

**Thoughts and feedback are welcome.**


	2. My Apologies

**Chapter Two – My Apologies. Percy's Days Imprisoned: 4**

"_All my vows, are left in vain. I'm thinking about letting go, and give away, promised glory days."_

_ - Isbells, 'My Apologies'_

* * *

><p>Annabeth had been avoiding visiting Percy since their first conversation revealed his identity. She had remained locked in her room, ignoring the constant hammering of Luke's fist against her door, demanding to know what the situation was between her and Percy. Having inside knowledge of the blueprints of the buildings, Annabeth had been able to move through the compound unnoticed by her comrades, who no doubt had been itching to find her in an isolated corridor.<p>

Her room was small, fitted with a desk and a small bookshelf made of two piled wooden boxes, filled with books she rescued. A pile of books rested on the desk, opened at different sections and then discarded when her thoughts grew too much to be distracted. Annabeth was currently in that predicament; the words in her books bearing no reprieve or comfort she desperately sought. Her legs dangled from the edge of her bed, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling trying to process her next move.

Athena had been specific in her instructions: kill Percy and receive an honour bequeathed to none other or be disgraced and thrown from her care. While Annabeth vowed to serve Athena until her dying breath, it took weeks before she had a lead on his whereabouts. It was a struggle foreign to her; the inability to finish her quest in a few short weeks. Her lead was only a witness claiming to have seen him. Athena's patience had run thin by that point and she made sure Annabeth knew exactly how disappointed she was in her pupil.

In a moment of desperation Annabeth had gone to the location determined not to fail. Her witness described a small room at the back of a warehouse where she did indeed find a Dissenter currently hiding. He attempted to defend what little life he had that Annabeth quickly terminated. It took only a second of celebration before Annabeth came to the realisation that her Dissenter wasn't Percy Jackson but some low level thug neutral in the war. Annabeth returned to their compound full of dread, only to find that Athena and the other leaders had vanished that very evening.

A sigh escaped Annabeth's lips as she mulled over the memory. Athena hadn't waited to see whether Annabeth had succeeded nor even to say goodbye and yet knowing who Percy was created a wave of discomfort. He was proof that Annabeth had failed. He was proof that even her meticulous planning was flawed. It stood to reason that Annabeth should want him destroyed, instead her body filled with dread at the prospect. Mulling over her thoughts distracted her that she hadn't noticed the lock being picked on her door until it had swung open fully, making her sit up in surprise.

"As far as caves go, you have certainly given it your own personal touch," Thalia observed shrewdly, folding her arms calmly across her chest.

"Can you please close the door?" Annabeth politely asked, letting her body fall back onto the mattress upon seeing her intruder.

Annabeth heard the thud of the door, followed by the swish of Thalia's jacket as she sat down beside her.

"I heard you made quite the statement at the execution," Thalia started, untangling the bracelet on her arm. "Babysitting is not your strong suit."

"I don't want a lecture, Thalia," Annabeth sighed. "I'm already regretting it."

"Clearly, considering you haven't left your own made cell in three days."

"I knew I should've braced the door so you wouldn't get in," Annabeth groaned.

Thalia put her hands up in mock surrender. "Just point out which jars contain your urine so I don't drink it by accident."

"Don't be disgusting, Thalia. You know I can make myself invisible through these halls."

"Oh, so you can rouse yourself to leave for your own benefit, but not for the enemy currently shacked up in the worst possible holding cell?"

Annabeth hated the stab of guilt that gutted her. Thalia was always one to get straight to the point. Annabeth glared at her friend with one eye closed as she sat up. The two of them had grown close after a joint mission that nearly ended Thalia's life. Annabeth felt she owed Thalia a great debt for her bravery, considering it was Annabeth's idea that landed them in such dire circumstances. Thalia never spoke of the incident or blamed Annabeth either but had long given up trying to convince her otherwise. Luke had been with them also. It was before he decided he had to become a leader, driving himself towards madness.

Thinking of Luke made Annabeth suspicious. Thalia hardly cared to get involved in something she deemed to end in drama. In most cases, Thalia mostly kept to herself. She came and went from the building as she pleased, leaving the scouting and fighting to the men loyal to Luke. It made Annabeth envious that Luke cared little for her actions but had her on constant lockdown.

"Did Luke send you in here to bait me?" Annabeth asked, going to her desk to grab a lukewarm glass of water.

"No, although he did request on several occasions I do so. He and his lackeys have been having fun tormenting your prisoner and I'm not one for taking the easy way but your kid's in bad shape, even if he can curse almost as good as me. I wanted to know if you had a good reason for neglecting him."

"I can't go back there," Annabeth mumbled, voicing her shame. "He told me his name is Percy Jackson."

"The Poseidon prick you were supposed to kill?" Thalia questioned and Annabeth nodded. "Huh … Slimy bastard," she added thoughtfully.

"Thalia, this is serious," Annabeth exasperated. "He's the reason Athena left me here –."

"No, Athena left when her studious mind finally realised there was nothing here to rule over," corrected Thalia. "As did Zeus, Hermes, Poseidon and the others. All of the so-called 'Rulers', left us here to deal with the fallout of their selfish desires. Her last ditch attempt for you to prove your loyalty was to avenge her wounded pride. Nothing more."

Annabeth would have felt better if Thalia had simply slapped her in the face. She kept her face blank as she broke down Thalia's statement. She didn't want it to be true. She wanted desperately to shout at Thalia, argue for Athena's better nature but even if Thalia's word were accused of being falsified, it would only be a select few. Annabeth delved back into the recess of her memories to the last days she spent with her surrogate; they were far from the happy times she had when she was first whisked into Athena's household.

"It's not like you were her daughter or anything," Thalia supplied, reading Annabeth's thoughts.

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" Annabeth scoffed.

Thalia shrugged. She rose to her feet, searching her jacket pocket, removing a cigarette. "I can see you're going through some inner turmoil thing but even if you stay in here or pull the trigger, Perseus isn't going to live much longer."

"Perseus?" Annabeth questioned, curious despite her guilt.

"His full name, yeah," Thalia grinned around her cigarette. "Not many are privy to that information so do try and use it against him."

"What makes you think I'm not just going to kill him?" Annabeth snorted.

Thalia ignored Annabeth's comment and opened the door, puffing out a trail of smoke. She faced her friend, an eyebrow raised. "If our leaders cared about us, they would still be here."

* * *

><p>Thalia's last words rang in Annabeth's head as she made her way down to the cells. She gently ran her fingers against the wall, sighing and watching her breath gently blow away in front of her. Fall had started only a few days ago and already a chill was settling on the buildings and its inhabitants. Malcolm noticed her and nodded in greeting, his arms full of scrolls as he passed her. Apart from him, anyone else she passed ignored her or gave her enough attention to stare balefully in her direction.<p>

"As long as they have a united enemy …" Annabeth muttered to herself.

An hour was the length of time it took for Annabeth to build up enough courage to leave her room. In truth, she decided to visit her charge minutes from Thalia's departure but she wanted to go there with a plan of attack, or so she kept telling herself for the fifty minutes she procrastinated. She dug through her old notes until she found her findings of him from her scouting days. Slightly reassured, she constructed her plan on her way to his cell.

Luke's guards at the entrance of the prison regarded her approach stoically, their hands casually resting against the weapons on their hips. Annabeth made no comment, simply levelling their gaze before continuing to her destination. Kevin wasn't at Percy's cell which was a tiny setback in Annabeth's mind. He would have at least a small amount of control of the prisoner's welfare on her behalf but she knew Luke would only keep him there for as little as possible. His replacement was almost double Annabeth's height and weight with a brutal scowl and ugly scars from his years of fighting. Arron was the name he grunted to the previous leader when he arrived bloodied at their base.

The sight of Arron unnerved her, even when she told herself he never threatened her. Currently, he was carving something from a chunk of wood, unaware of her entry and completely harmless but still Annabeth's heart was in a flutter. With a stab of anger, she remembered telling Luke her opinion when he first arrived two years ago. Luke had placed Arron on the guard rotation knowing it would affect her demeanour. As if she needed any more upheavals meeting a convicted enemy.

Annabeth waited beside Arron as he unlocked the cell, hiding her anxiety of his presence by scowling and crossing her arms in feigned impatience. Arron never spoke, furthering the air of unease that surrounded him. The cell door opened and he stood aside, his dark eyes puckered in a permanent scowl, watching her unblinkingly. She had seen him fight on raids and suppressed a shudder as he shut the door behind her, trying to dislodge the feeling of being his cornered prey.

"Ah … my supervisor returns," Percy said with mock pronouncement. "Was your absence supposed to alter my opinion of you? Because I still think your scum."

Annabeth's thoughts snapped back to the other reason of her anxiety. She zeroed in on him with narrowed eyes, forgetting her previous misgivings with the mute behind her. She ignored his comment but still had to grit her teeth. She had a plan to stick to.

"Last time we talked you lead our conversation," Annabeth said, walking over to him. "I'm the one in charge, got it?"

"So you did want me to soften? Man, you are definitely going to be disappointed."

Annabeth found a wooden chair at the edge of the light, which was roughly halfway into the cell. She sat down, her back to Arron, whose eyes drilled into her back. Percy was just shadows upon shadows in her vision but at least she could get a rough outline of his whereabouts. His head was tilted slightly in her direction, leaning against the wall. His arms were curled around his chest, unimpressed by her reappearance. The chains rattled every so often with his breathing.

"Come a little closer into the light so I can see you," Annabeth demanded, already feeling her temper rise from his snide comments.

"No please? No wonder you're questioning skills are mediocre," Percy muttered but obeyed and shifted a few inches toward her.

His knee closest to her was propped up, obscuring most of his body but leaving the face clear. Annabeth had hoped foolishly that Thalia exaggerated when she mentioned Luke's cronies wiling away their boredom against Percy. His shirt was completely stained with sweat, dirt and blood so it was impossible to know what colour it used to be. Skinny ankles and feet protruded from faded jeans with smudged and smeared skin was only visible in the brighter patches of his current spot.

Annabeth knew that he was just as skilled as she was and probably almost as smart. He would not do something without purpose and that meant by adhering to her request was as much a benefit to his game as well as hers. Maybe he wanted her to see his current condition and it was a sad truth that Annabeth was affected by it. Why had she not come to him sooner?

Annabeth stood from her chair and marched back to the door, ignoring Percy's comment of, "leaving me so soon". Arron was expressionless but at Annabeth's requested he grunted, trudging out of her line of sight for a few minutes. Annabeth stood quietly, wanting to know where he was going but deciding the reaction from Percy if she stretched on her toes was not worth it. When he returned, he was carrying the bucket of water. Wordlessly, he opened the door and handed it to her. Annabeth looked first at the bucket and then to Arron, who remained standing impassively, staring at her. She turned away, lost in thought.

The bucket and washer she had seen beside the cell as she walked in. She had often seen situations where they would leave the water in view but out of reach, torturing the prisoners for the guard's entertainment. She knew Luke would have ordered them to deny Percy access to such things, and yet Arron had went and retrieved it for her anyway. She took a quick glance at him and gave him a small smile of thanks when she noticed his eyes trained on her again.

"Clean yourself up," Annabeth said softly, placing the bucket a few feet from him. Annabeth had to clench her jaw to keep the apologies from spilling out of her mouth to the young captive.

His eyes pierced hers from the darkness and followed her as she sat back down. Out of all the people she had questioned, he was definitely the hardest to read. He had the ability to place his real feelings behind copious walls and detours of laidback jibes and sarcasm. Even his eyes, which are where Annabeth gleamed most her answers, were tight and cold, ready to lead her astray without hesitation. From their positions Annabeth couldn't see the green of his eyes, only dark orbs.

"Your pretty nose not adept to the smell down here?" Percy jeered, grabbing the washer floating in the bucket without breaking their stare.

Annabeth had trouble not rolling her eyes. "Would you stop trying to bait me? It's getting really annoying."

Percy smirked at the comment, bringing back an animal like appearance. He shrugged, a small movement of his shoulders before he grabbed the bucket and dumped its entire contents over himself. Annabeth watched in shock as he shook the water from his hair and then began to clean the dirt with the washer in his hand. She quickly collected herself as Percy quietly attended to his task. It was only once he had nearly finished did he talk.

"I knew someone had been hired to kill me from Athena." He looked up from his cleaning, finding her eyes. "I'm assuming that's why you freaked out after hearing my name?"

"Freaked out," Annabeth repeated, with a small noise of derisiveness. She had glanced away for a moment before staring at him again.

His expression held the shadow of a smile. "So I think your first question should be if you are going to abide by a leader who deserted you, or by an oath you placed on my behalf?"

Annabeth leaned back against the chair frame, thoughtful. They were dancing around each other, twirling, gliding to and from the centre of their frame, trying to lead the other into a submission. It was a dance of trust and it was only when they reached a level of understanding could they move in synchronization. Annabeth reached to her belt and pulled from it the small pocket knife. She leaned forward, freeing the blade from its handle. Deliberately, she dropped the tip so it pointed directly at his chest. He took a look at the gleaming knife and then slowly returned his eyes to hers. He appeared to wait patiently for her decision but there was a slight tightening grip of the washer in his hands.

"I thought I told you, I'm the one asking the questions and you're the one answering them," Annabeth murmured, clicking the blade back into the handle.

Percy's lips upturned in a smirk of understanding, placing the now dirty washer on his erect knee and leaning his head against the wall. It was hardly a gesture of submission but Annabeth took it as a sign of a grudging respect.

"Let's start with some simple things," Annabeth started, leaning against the back of the chair. "When is your date of birth?"

"Don't you already have this information about me in some file thing?" Percy questioned, sighing when Annabeth waited silently for his answer. "August eighteenth."

Annabeth nodded and then pulled what little they could find on him from her jacket pocket. Percy snorted derisively, shaking his head.

"There is no record of your biological father anywhere I have researched –."

"– because you aren't as smart as you think you are –."

"– but I have discovered your mother was Sally Jackson, yes?" Annabeth finished, returning her gaze to him.

"What sort of interrogation is this?" Percy spat, his chains rattling following a gesture from his hands.

"You know how these work," Annabeth replied indifferently.

"It sounds like you're fucking interviewing me," came Percy's retort, looking away with a shake of his head.

Annabeth considered how much was he worth when her patience slipped. She was already short tempered and the fuse was already shortening by his hand. She watched as he picked at the fingernails on his hand, glancing from under his eyelashes. A competition of wills, Annabeth thought as her gaze pierced his with unwavering control. The dance was slowly morphing into a game of patience.

"Interesting notion," Annabeth commented. "I was just trying to get to know you."

"Who I am is not important," Percy replied, tilting his head. "It's what I am going to do next that you have to figure out."

"Considering you're secured by chains and held in a cell tells me not very much."

Percy smirked, his eyes remaining deadly cold. "Annabeth Chase, born to a mother who dumped you on your father's doorstep who, although loved you, did not understand caring for a child was a full time occupation. Did it sting to know that he hadn't even realised you ran away from home?"

Annabeth's insides flared with fire, fuelled by her anger. She stared at Percy, refusing to blink or break their stare. He met her gaze, knowing he had touched a nerve. She had to be careful not to overreact with anger that she desperately wanted to unleash. She had wondered what he had on her but bringing up her father was a pretty direct blow to her heart. He was waiting for her to crack and she considered for a few seconds if combustion from built up anger was possible in humans.

"You've been withholding your knowledge of me," she finally said, feigning calmness.

"Your guards are loud mouths, especially when they think their entertainment is unconscious," Percy stated. "You're a quite popular topic for conversation. In _all_ aspects."

Percy, it seemed, did not want her help or refuse to see her as such. Annabeth didn't understand. She had risked her life for his, risked her home, reputation and friends for his benefit. He acted as though she was the one about to pull the trigger. She dismissed the fact that she had left him to Luke for those few days; his disposition ran deeper than a few torturous days. To Percy, she was always going to be the enemy.

Annabeth had to rattle him or throttle him, she would prefer the latter. Sometimes, in order to tame a feral dog, it had to be taught to submit to a stronger adversary.

"Probably something you are familiar with, _Perseus_."

His reaction was immediate. He sat straighter, his expression losing it sneering edge. This was anger in its purest form. His nostrils flared, jaw clenched, eyes glowing with smouldering fire. Any sane person would take one look at Percy and feel instant fear but Annabeth remained stoic, knowing she had her leverage. She silently thanked Thalia.

"I can see I've touched a nerve so can we get back to answering my questions?" Annabeth asked simply. She decided from that point on that she would only address him by his full name.

With difficulty, Perseus relaxed his posture against the wall. He breathed deeply from his nose, turning his face away but keeping his wary eyes on her.

"Why does your full name cause you distress?" Annabeth let her tone grow softer.

This time he did look away. After minutes of silence, he spoke with reluctant words. "I'll answer any other question, if you don't ask me that one ever again."

Perseus looked at her, his eyes cold and angered. Annabeth knew his expression; it was one of reluctant submission. She shifted in her seat, placing the folded sheet of paper back into her jacket. She had won their game and broke down one of his walls but the satisfaction she longed to feel was absent.

"How many Dissenters are there?" Annabeth asked quietly.

Perseus' lips stretched into a devilish smirk against his will, his eyes sparking. She could feel her lips quirk. His smirk turned into a cold chuckle, his chains rattling when he rubbed the stubble against his jaw. Annabeth shrugged, knowing it was a long shot. In truth, she wanted to lighten the mood growing tired of the darkness and anger that surrounded the two of them.

Annabeth asked her next question. "Favourite food?"

His face froze and Annabeth watched as he withdrew into the emotional shell clasped around him. Perseus' furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes blinking. His lip twitched, as if they wanted to smile but he refused to let them. He made a scoffing sound in the back of his throat, shaking his head in apparent disbelief. He glanced away and then back to her, the grin they shared seconds ago vanished.

Annabeth thought the question harmless, yet his reaction proved otherwise. He struggled, which was not in Perseus' well-kept manner to occur often. If Annabeth read his reaction correctly, he couldn't decide whether he was to take her acquisition of his food preference in all seriousness.

"Chocolate brownie," he said. His voice stretched deep, making it sound like a growl.

"Oh." He glared at her quizzically before she amended her reaction. "No, I mean. I didn't expect your answer to be that."

"And what would your answer be for me?" Perseus questioned coldly.

"I'm not sure," Annabeth said carefully, noticing his withdrawal. She frowned. "I would have thought something more eloquent …"

Perseus snorted loudly. "Pray tell, Chase, what eloquence can be gained in these chaotic times? Your ignorance and judgements prove how little you know of me. A thing, I am most, grateful for."

"Why can't you accept that I am the only one around you that is trying to ease your suffering?" Annabeth burst out, her anger returning.

"Help me?" Perseus leaned forward, his expression hungry for blood. "Get me out."

Annabeth clenched her jaw, refusing to answer. She glared at him which he returned, a seething smirk adding to the wild, feral look he was adapting. She broke his stare, her head moving so she could face the bars. Through them she watched Arron continue with his carving, occasionally gazing in her direction. He was calm as he worked methodically, the things around him irrelevant.

Annabeth steadied her breathing, letting her anger trickle away. Perseus was unpredictable, an anomaly happy to cause as much discord possible. Altering his emotions at the slightest tick, he was someone Annabeth would struggle to get a hold of. Her original plan failed, in fact, it never came into effect. Percy hindrance was proof that if Annabeth was to get anywhere with him, she would have to think outside the box.

"I'm guessing your favourite food is something plain, boring almost. English tea cake? Victoria sponge?" Percy clicked his fingers. "Or maybe you're into the fake, rich stuff. Chocolate gateau? Delicately sliced exotic fruit?"

"Gelato," Annabeth answered with a twinge of annoyance, facing his sneering expression.

"My next guess," Perseus replied just as angrily. "This meeting is growing tedious. I wish to reconvene."

"I wish to continue," Annabeth protested.

"The meeting will go no further if I refuse to answer your pitiful questions," he snapped, eyeing her darkly. "I can't go anywhere so what's the big deal?"

"Be grateful you still have breath to cling to," Annabeth detested. "Your friends didn't get such pleasures."

"It is this reason that I despise you with every fibre I possess," he replied critically.

A slight twitch of his eyes didn't pass Annabeth when his friends were mentioned. She had almost forgotten that in the midst of his position, he was still grieving their assassination. At that moment, she could see another reason for his continual rage towards her. She represented his failure, his guilt; just like he represented Annabeth's failure to her leader. His current dependency on her ability to keep him alive for however long Luke permitted it added to his fury. His life was in her hands and she knew if he had his way, he would have ended it beside his friends.

Annabeth stood from the chair, marching in the direction of the door. She glanced to the side as she went to leave, pausing mid-stride. Frowning, she turned, facing the tray that caught her eye. A mixture of emotions went through Annabeth as she stared at it but mostly she felt furious with Luke.

"Is that what they've been feeding you?" asked Annabeth, outraged.

Perseus glanced at his tray before fixing his stare on her. "_They?_" Perseus questioned shrewdly. "Don't you mean, 'we'?"

"I have no part in the food," Annabeth said through gritted teeth.

She had not taken her eyes away from the tray of moulded food. Disgust seeped into her body as she watched a maggot wiggle in what was supposed to be soup. The reason he responded so strangely when she asked him about his favourite food became clear. He had believed she was mocking him, taunting him through starvation even after he thought her to be civil. It was something that Luke would have instigated; he knew how she probed their captives to reveal secrets through cryptic questions. Annabeth felt sick.

"I thought I was under your jurisdiction?" Perseus continued to press, rattling the chain attached to his right wrist purposely.

Annabeth faced him. She took in the matted hair, the stubble steadily growing to obscure his youthful face. He had been imprisoned for a few days and already he was paling, his cheekbones slightly more pronounced and his eyes gaunt, filled with anger. His wrists poking from ripped sleeves rubbed red raw from the chains. He was in her care and this is what became of him? She was so focused on her own issues that she didn't even think about him.

But what Perseus had said about him being her jurisdiction had lit a spark of a scheme in her brain. Why should she follow Luke as he dove down into the depths of no return? She had been a leader once. She had been someone to admire by many of the other Athena students so why had she taken a back step to follow orders she occasionally didn't agree with? Could she path another route away from Luke?

"You are," Annabeth told him.

A spark glistened in Perseus' eyes for a brief second. It was a look Annabeth associated with imps or demons before they zipped away to cause havoc. He knew just by hearing the tone in her voice that she was going to go against Luke's wishes. Annabeth almost lost her resolve at that briefest of looks but she was already marching towards the door. She had a plan to complete.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks to those who reviewed the first chapter. I should have mentioned that this story will contain some language and violence in later chapters.<strong>


	3. Spawn

**Chapter 3 – Spawn – Percy's Days In Imprisonment 5-7**

"_I am trying to rediscover, the wide-eyed beauty of the first glance, and you can take what's mine, add it to the weight of time with cold eyes and a furrowed brow"_

_ - George, 'Spawn'_

"Annabeth!"

Annabeth stopped midstride, gritting her teeth. She knew walking through the courtyard was going to attract attention from her fellows. Being dusk, she had hoped most of them would be in the mess hall for dinner. She rearranged her expression to resemble a calm indifference before she faced Luke and his contingents. Their stares ranged from surprise to hatred. Becoming a member of the council, she grew accustomed to the reactions of her fellow tribesman. Being logical wasn't valued as a definitive opinion. Luke's arms was spread, his look questioning; he demanded an answer for her sudden reappearance.

Annabeth sighed and looked away, crossing her arms over her chest. She waited while he dismissed his followers and strode towards her. Tim shot her an annoyed look before he left towards the mess hall with Ethan, who didn't seem to care of Annabeth's existence. She vowed to deal with Tim later. Luke stopped a few feet from her, miming her stance. His impatience rolled off of him but Annabeth was tired of trying to explain herself so she simply stood silent, watching his mood darken.

"Do I get an explanation for your absence?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

Annabeth sighed aloud, noticing a slight twitch in Luke's eye. She was sick of submitting to him and after her decision to aid Perseus and defy Luke's cruel orders she had found a strong resilience to his bullying.

"Perhaps, we should start with the fact that you didn't tell me who he was," she said steely, straightening her stance.

Luke grew thoughtful. Annabeth watched as he matched everything together. Athena's ultimatum, Annabeth's disappearance from sight after her vow even when she knew Perseus would have been subjected to Luke's cruelty. He laughed aloud, making Annabeth clench her jaw furiously.

"You were sulking because the guy you spared was the one Athena ordered to kill?" Luke laughed again, a cold laugh. "How ironic."

"I don't have time for your insolence," she said stiffly.

"You're blaming me for not warning you about Jackson?" he asked incredulously, a snarl upon his face. "You expect me to remember all of your petty insecurities about a mentor long deserted? Besides, your irrationality has caused me a great amount of strain."

"Strain?" Annabeth repeated. "From what I've seen, the only strain you and your followers have accumulated have already been exhausted on the prisoner. I thought I made it clear I wanted him to be left alone."

Luke's expression hardened. "Considering you locked yourself in your room and my men wanted sport, Jackson provided a much needed entertainment."

"I had things to sort out," Annabeth growled. "If your men attack him again, I'll see the damage personally returned, with interest."

"You're going to attack your own people for some thug that deserves whatever payback we decide to inflict?"

"My people don't victimise others to relieve boredom, Luke."

Luke appeared to want to reply but they were interrupted by a group of returning scouts. Annabeth watched them pass silently, able to reign in her anger. Her eyes turned to Luke, who was struggling to do the same thing. Minutes passed until Luke's shoulders relaxed, his eyes forlorn as they looked towards the sky. Annabeth was reminded of the years they were happy together when she watched him in that state ease. Reality returned when his gaze fell upon her again, the scar marring his otherwise perfect face a stark contrast in the current light.

"Annabeth, do you think I want this anger? This violence? I just want peace, I want them to realise we aren't here to destroy. We have the resources and the knowledge and I want to help them."

"Except when it comes to Jackson or anyone who sides with him against you," Annabeth retaliated, resisting rubbing her cheek.

Luke's eyes grew pained. His eyes travelled to her cheek and lip before settling on her eyes again. His voice was soft. "I hate myself for hitting you but, you gave me no choice. I'm the leader now, people look to me and I can't treat anyone differently. I'm still the same guy that hung around with you those years ago."

There was a time Luke's words were a comfort to her, even when they proved to be false. She had learned that Luke provided no comfort for anyone, not even for himself. He craved power and control and anyone who crossed the boundary was cruelly treated until they submitted to him again. She kept her gaze level but inside she was writhing. The only truthful thing he spoke was that he was leader. Only her tone conveyed the hard anger she could barely control.

"Tell your cronies to leave Perseus to me. He won't talk to you or anyone you send in your name. He needs to be able to trust me."

"Perseus?" questioned Luke. "He never did tell me his full name. What you're saying, about trust," he paused, lost in thought. "My men, will continue to harass Jackson when I appoint them to."

"Did you just hear what I said?" Annabeth said, outraged. "Touch him and I'll inflict worse. You won't help the situation."

"I don't take orders from you," snarled Luke. "He's my prisoner, you hear? I decide what happens to his life."

"What happened between the two of you?" asked Annabeth in disbelief. She took a step away from him instinctively.

The snarl on Luke's face disappeared. "Annie …" He went to take a step towards her but she shook her head, keeping her distance. His face hardened. "Jackson refused to help me years ago and I nearly died because of his lack of compassion. That's all you need to know."

Annabeth narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Something didn't sit right with Luke's explanation. Whatever happened between the two of them had come from Luke, Annabeth decided. Perseus hated all of them equally and Luke seemed more invested in Perseus than the latter. The only one who could tell her the truth would never do so purely because it was what Annabeth wanted. Annabeth really wanted to hit something to ease her frustration.

"He defied you somehow, when you first became leader," Annabeth thought aloud.

Luke's face glowered, his mouth tightening to a thin line. Annabeth felt a small victory bubble in her chest at her guess. He strode away but paused, turning and coming back. Something in his demeanour changed, Annabeth noticed. He was relaxed, thoughtful. Annabeth was apprehensive of his sudden mood change.

"The council meeting is in a few nights time," he told her. "Considering you missed the last one because of your, indisposed state, it would be, _prudent_, to attend this one. Don't be late."

Annabeth watched him storm towards his room. Sounds from the mess hall carried to her, shouts and catcalls of a contest issued. With a frown of disgust, Annabeth wandered towards her room, planning to sneak into the kitchen after the crowd left to start the phase of her defiance. She had to start planning her other blocks in the rebellion but Luke's abrupt mention of a meeting interrupted her train of thought. It appeared she wasn't the only one with schemes in mind. She had to be more wary than she originally thought.

She passed Kevin on his way to guard duty, who nodded and gave her a small smile as he passed. Annabeth returned his smile instinctively, her mind elsewhere. It was only a few paces after that she realised who passed her and the opportunity to gain another set of eyes. She turned, noticing the other loiters in the hallway with them. She would have to play it smart.

"Kevin," she called, wandering towards his paused frame.

* * *

><p>"Kevin, I need you to get Percy another change of clothes."<p>

They were standing outside Annabeth's room, Kevin coming to her after his shift ended as arranged. Annabeth watched for unwelcome ears as she claimed her request, ready to silence them if necessary. Kevin noticed how she fingered the handle of her pocket knife strapped to her belt and the tautness of her statue. He gently grabbed her hand by the fingers and brought them up in front of her. This caused Annabeth to end her search and look at him.

Kevin had been a companion for Annabeth when Luke had driven her away with his bloodlust and thirst for dominating power. He was tall and quietly spoken, only having joined them after most of the fighting had been extinguished. He had been a nomad; carefully avoiding choosing a side until Luke and his scouts had discovered him in a well hidden cave. He was given the choice of death or initiation and since then found menial tasks inside the compound that would keep his hands virtually clean. He was brought in when Annabeth was at her most vulnerable emotionally and he was more than willing to attend to her needs; being the shoulder to cry on, the ears to hear her sad stories and body to comfort her on the sleepless nights.

In the moments when he looked at her as he was in that hallway, his blue eyes fondly gazing at her steel-like ones, hands lightly gripping hers and shuffling closer to cradle her body, she truly felt guilty for using him to dampen her break up with Luke. He knew without her having to explain that he was only a comfort and nothing emotionally further than a close friend and confidant. Annabeth thought he was always waiting and hoping for her to feel more for him. She broke off their arrangement the few months ago that she started to question the actions of her people.

"It doesn't have to be brand new," Annabeth added, seeing his raised eyebrow. "Just an old shirt and pants or jeans would be fine. Oh, and underwear as well I guess."

Kevin ran his free hand through his wavy brown hair. He had let it grow out and it curled around his ears and neck. Annabeth remembered she had told him one night that she preferred slightly longer hair on a guy. A stab of guilt rifted through her stomach; he always preferred his hair cropped short to his skull.

"I know you've probably heard this from everyone else," Kevin said slowly. "But is he worth all the stakes you are putting on him?"

"Kev …" Annabeth started but he silenced her.

"You know I would follow any decision you make –."

"I don't ask you to –." Annabeth cut in before he continued.

"I just want to remind you that he has killed many of your friends, Annabeth. Does a man like that deserve the effort you are giving him to live? From what I've heard from him being his guard, he sounds a right prick."

Annabeth smiled at his last comment before sobering. "I've killed people too, Kevin. I'm not proud of that but it's the truth. I didn't stay away from the fighting like you did, I was in the thick of it, fighting for a cause I thought was worth the bloodshed at the time. If you were in his position, shut up in darkness for days with poor food and still in the bloodied clothes you were captured in, wouldn't you want something as simple as a new shirt?"

Kevin was silent as he pondered her words. Absently, his hand squeezed her fingers gently in affection. A small smile of understanding showed on his lips and after a few minutes he sighed and nodded his acceptance to her request. She gave him a smile in return, hoping to go onto her next phase of her plan but Kevin wasn't finished talking to her.

"Why are you risking your life for him, Annabeth?" he asked softly. "You were never one for impulsive action."

"I don't know, Kev," replied she, glancing past him down the hallway before looking at him again. "Over the last few months I've been wondering … wondering whether what we're doing is the right thing."

Kevin nodded, not asking any further questions. They had already discussed Annabeth's unease and Kevin needed no further explanation. Annabeth found it so easy to talk to Kevin because he never felt the need to press her to say something she didn't want to say. If she kept things from him, he knew it wasn't in spite or distrust for him. His free hand had brushed against her cheek, caressing it gently. He watched it and Annabeth saw how his eyes softened.

"You just need to trust your instincts, Annabeth," he murmured, his hand cupping her cheek.

Annabeth was about to ask of him to stop when he pressed himself against her, pressing his lips to hers. Annabeth stood still, feeling his hand worm around her back. She closed her eyes briefly as he tried to get her to respond to his kiss. She did automatically but she felt nothing, even when his tongue ran over her lips and his hot breath washed over her.

"Kevin …" Annabeth said, pushing him away.

He didn't resist her push. He looked at her with a smile that suggested that he had to kiss her and he wasn't ashamed that she didn't respond the way he wanted her too. They had done a lot more than kissing before.

"I'm not on duty for a few more days so he won't get it right away," Kevin resumed as if he had never kissed her.

"Only as soon as you feel comfortable," Annabeth said. Voices drifted towards them.

"Go," Kevin whispered quietly, kissing her forehead. "Don't worry so much. We can handle Luke. We have before."

Annabeth slipped through secret hallways, sighing at Kevin's unwavering affection. She wanted the best for him and although he desperately wanted it to be her, they both knew Annabeth could never give him happiness when she didn't feel it herself. Annabeth snuck into her room, collapsing on the bed with another large sigh. Her thoughts went to Perseus and the smug way he answered her questions and how easily he goaded her anger. No one had been able to make her emotions so unstable, not since Athena took her in. Maybe saving Perseus was more to quench her curiousity of his hold on her emotions rather than the person himself.

* * *

><p>A few mornings after her reappearance to the Extradites proved even more strenuous on Annabeth than most of her days at the compound. Breakfast was served in the old cafeteria and the members not on duty took up the table seats, ignoring and avoiding Annabeth. Thalia was her only company, eating quietly in-between puffs of her cigarette. Annabeth shook her head at her friend's nicotine fixation but kept her opinion to herself.<p>

"I don't understand why you cause so much drama," Thalia mused, examining a spoonful of oatmeal. "I mean, you're just eating fruit salad and I know the fruit here is normally on the verge of rotting but it's no reason to stare."

Annabeth shot Thalia a look, taking another mouthful of her breakfast. Thalia raised her eyebrows, her smirk sparking in her blue eyes behind the smoke. Annabeth sighed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She stifled a yawn, chewing methodically through her fatigue. She had spent the past few nights coming up with ways to improve Perseus' living conditions and it was proving to be one of her more challenging projects. She didn't trust anyone and refused to write it down anywhere so she memorised everything, straining the limits of her brain capacity.

"I asked to have breakfast with you because I have matters to discuss," Annabeth said seriously, casting an eye towards the kitchen.

"Of course," Thalia nodded, feigning seriousness. She pushed aside her bowl. "You want a private conversation and you pick one of the most public places in the compound."

"I'm waiting for Rhonda to get my message and people avoid me nowadays as you graciously pointed out."

"And Luke is about to get men to tail you," Thalia added breezily, pulling Annabeth's bowl towards her and popping a piece of fruit into her mouth.

"You aren't serious?"

Thalia shrugged. "He thought I would spy on you, considering we're friends and I was the one who coaxed you out of your room. If I could do that, obviously I could find out anything I wanted. I told him he could shove it."

Annabeth sat back in her chair, thinking. Thalia continued to eat her fruit, which she had forgotten about. "That might not actually be a bad idea," she said finally, looking at Thalia.

Thalia stared at Annabeth surprised, her mouth full. "Say what now?"

A loud bang echoed from the direction of the kitchen. Everyone in the room jumped and turned towards the sound. Annabeth and Thalia looked up and Annabeth knew her message had been received.

Rhonda, the head chef stood behind the serving bench of the kitchen, hands on hips, her deadly gaze fixed in Annabeth's direction while a rolling pin made its escape towards the edge of the bench. Rumours had spread that Rhonda used to be a lethal fighter and if her towering height and broad shoulders were anything to go by, it would be one of the few rumours that were right. Years of organizing and cooking food had added a few extra pounds but she still looked fit enough to put up a hell of a fight. Her dark red hair was cut short, almost boyish and her dark eyes surveyed Annabeth with just enough of a demanding explanation that made her almost frightening. Annabeth had seen that look directed at her a couple of times already as an Extradite, and at Thalia even more frequent, so she was almost used to her piercing glare. Despite her physicality, Rhonda was mostly a soft and kind individual.

"Looks like you're being summoned," Thalia observed shrewdly, grinning.

"We'll continue this later. Will you still be here or are you scouting?"

"Nar, I'll be here," Thalia answered, lounging back to rest her feet on the table. "Although by the look on Rhonda's face you might not be."

Annabeth shot Thalia a silencing look before rising, heading towards the kitchen. A few eyes followed her but otherwise no one bothered to notice. Rhonda turned and headed through the melee of her kitchen when Annabeth was a few feet away, not looking back to see if she was following. The kitchen was chaos and at a glance it appeared to be almost disorganised. Annabeth knew that for some reason that she couldn't work out that its discord actually flowed more smoothly than a few of Annabeth's recent plans. The kitchen hands were so busy with their work that they were blind to Annabeth's appearance but it wasn't them that Annabeth had to see.

"Care to explain?" Rhonda demanded as soon as they were tucked away at the back near the walk-in freezer.

Rhonda pulled out the note Annabeth had left the night after she discovered what Perseus was made to eat. Her writing was messy but negligible and the message was implied if not specifically written. She knew it was a risk to leave it out in the open but she was betting on the chance that Rhonda's strict cleanliness rule would mean the note would be discovered by the right person. The delay was a little concerning but anything left in the kitchen always fell into Rhonda's hands eventually.

Annabeth expected her reluctance. "Rhonda, if you would give me –."

"No, I know what it is but why to me?" Rhonda asked exasperatedly before addressing one of her hands. "Carl, would you please remember that we cook food for people here, not pigs." She started to walk towards the kitchen hands and Annabeth had no choice but to follow. "This is going to ruin my reputation, Annabeth."

"You're the only one I trust to feed him properly whilst he's a captive," she explained.

"Penny, check that sauce for me, dear. Annabeth, sweetie, I love you but I am not about to upheave my entire system for one person. I'm sorry."

"Come with me," Annabeth suggested. "And then you'll see."

"I need to prep for lunch," Rhonda argued.

"You've trained up your kitchen hands so immaculately that they could manage without you for twenty minutes. Please, it's the only way you'll understand."

Rhonda grumbled but eventually complied with Annabeth's request. She barked her orders to her servants and hurried out of the back kitchen door held open by Annabeth. Rhonda continued to grumble as Annabeth directed them down the back hallways of the place, careful to avoid Luke's keen eyes. This didn't pass Rhonda.

"So, how far are you willing to destroy your life for this bloke, Annabeth?" Rhonda asked through her panted breaths.

"I don't know," Annabeth said after looking back to her, remembering Kevin asking a similar question. "And I'm not destroying my life."

Rhonda chuckled. "You're keeping secrets from Luke about helping the boy. No doubt you're devising something in that head of yours. Is this coming from your qualms about base a few weeks ago?"

"I suppose it is," Annabeth replied.

Being head chef, Rhonda knew about almost everything that happened in the compound. She was a chef, confidant and at times counsellor for those who needed her. She had grown close to Annabeth after Luke turned his back on her, making her eat and share her feelings so she didn't wallow in them. Annabeth thought of Rhonda as a mother hen, feeding and looking after her chicks. She noticed when something was wrong and cared enough to ask about it.

They turned down the hallway, entering the prison without a word. Getting closer to the cell, Annabeth noticed a figure guarding his door. She withheld a groan. She wanted them to be at breakfast. The figure noticed them and stood to attention, his hand resting on the gun at his hip. Coming closer, the figure was …

"Ethan," Annabeth greeted, feigning a smile.

"You're not supposed to be here," was Ethan's gravelly reply.

"He's my charge," Annabeth declared. "I can come and go as I please." She hoped the authority in her voice would make it sound more truthful.

"Luke didn't authorise this." Ethan's voice turned doubtful.

Annabeth clenched her teeth. "Then go and have breakfast and pretend you didn't see us," Annabeth bargained, taking a step closer to the cell.

Ethan blocked her path. "I really can't."

Annabeth was about to knock him out when Rhonda stood beside her, hands on her hips. Annabeth almost flinched at her cold expression.

"Go, boy! Or starve for a week. Your choice."

Ethan took one frightened look at Rhonda before scurrying towards the door. He glanced back to Annabeth once who remained glaring until he disappeared through the doors. She started laughing once he had left.

"They say I'm bad. Look at you," Annabeth chortled, grabbing the keys from the chair to unlock the cell door.

"You threaten a man's rations and they will do anything for you," Rhonda said simply, her voice echoing from the cell walls as they entered. She looked around it disdainfully. "I don't understand why you people feel it necessary to cage each other like animals."

Annabeth led her to the morning's tray supposedly meant to be breakfast. It was not much better than the previous meal Annabeth saw. She was disgusted and angry at Luke all over again. Rhonda noticed the food and her mouth tightened. She knelt beside it, bringing it up to her nose to sniff the contents. She placed it back almost immediately, snorting out whatever scent came from the rotting food.

"Trust me, this one is an animal," Annabeth said dryly, trying to keep the revulsion from her voice as she continued to gaze at his food.

"Please don't speak about me when I'm present," Perseus' voice said from the dark.

If Rhonda was startled by his sudden voice, she hid it well. He walked from the shadows, his eyes watching the two of them curiously. Perseus was paler still and dark shadows circled his eyes from lack of sleep. His bruises were yellowing and Annabeth couldn't see any newer ones forming. His hands were held behind him from the restraints. His green eyes were still cold and unnerving.

"Since when do you ask politely?" Annabeth pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Considering I have a guest, I thought I should try it out," he nodded to Rhonda, who gazed upon him without expression.

"Is she part of your scheming we last discussed?" he asked conversationally, trying to hide his curiousity. His clothes looked even worse when he was standing. Annabeth hoped Kevin could get him new clothes soon.

"None of your business," Annabeth quipped, shooting him a glance.

"I'll take that as a yes. So who's this you've brought me? Is she here to comfort me?" He waggled his eyebrows.

"Watch your tongue boy," Rhonda snarled, hands on hips.

"As you wish," he shrugged. Annabeth looked at the two of them exasperated. She wished it was that easy for her to subdue him. "You did seem to stretch the limits of my, capabilities, but I'm sure we would enjoy it nonetheless."

Annabeth rounded on him, feeling white hot anger shoot through her. Whatever game he was playing, Annabeth wanted nothing of it. "You vile, lowlife scum," Annabeth murmured angrily.

"No doubt," Rhonda replied, putting a hand out as Annabeth was about to charge towards him. "But seeing your demeanour and living quarters, I don't think I would like it here."

"Ah," Perseus said, looking around in disappointment. "I'm afraid this is all I have to give, unless you spring me out and take me back to your room?"

"Unfortunately no can do. I don't take liking to younger men, especially when they are supposed to be my enemy."

"But I'm the best kind," Perseus protested before he sighed. "If you insist, I'll just have to woo Chase over to open her legs for me."

Annabeth pushed Rhonda's hand aside, striding towards him, wanting nothing more than to punch the taunting smirk from his face. He didn't flinch from her approach or made any indication he was afraid of being hit. It was as if he wanted her to hit him. She was inches from his frame and she was ready to take her shot.

"Annabeth!" Rhonda called out.

Annabeth stopped, her every fibre screaming to ignore Rhonda. For the person who was insulted, Rhonda had not moved an inch or even appeared to be angry. Perseus locked his eyes on Annabeth's and in that stare Annabeth could see the anger he tried to hide. She allowed herself to take a deep breath. The smell of sweat, blood and other foul things came from Perseus' clothes and body. It made her eyes water and it was with great restraint that she didn't cough or recoil from him.

She could feel the pulse keenly in her right hand. Looking down, she saw with surprise that it was gripping her knife tightly. So strongly was her grip that her knuckles were pale; almost as pale as her captive. Slowly, her knuckles gently unwound from the handle and she had to flex her fingers to relieve the stiffness. She realised why Rhonda had called to her.

"Rhonda, can I have a moment alone with Perseus, please?" she asked her companion calmly, determined not to break her stare with him.

"Sure," Rhonda replied slowly, clearly reluctant to leave. "I'll just wait outside."

"Don't leave so soon. We were just getting to know each other," Perseus called out.

"Oh laddie, if you only knew who you were stirring," Rhonda replied, gesturing to Annabeth.

"I can handle her," he paused and gazed directly at Annabeth. "It's she who can't handle me."

Annabeth wanted to keep her face expressionless but it was a hard thing. Her eyes narrowed, her lips ready to part to let the string of curses she could hear screaming in her head out towards her intended listener. She had to avert her gaze in order to restrain herself. Rhonda grunted and her footsteps echoed loudly against the silence of the cell. The door creaked and groaned as it was opened and shut.

"For once, in your miserable life, be respectful of what I'm risking for you," Annabeth growled at him, noticing he stood a few inches taller.

"You'll gain my respect when I am free and my friends are avenged," he shot back. "If I wasn't cuffed to the bloody wall, I would happily knock you out."

Annabeth moved towards him, making him backpedal to avoid touching her. She moved into the darkness, unable to see him but could hear the chains rattling and his exhales. She judged approximately where he would have enough of a reach with the cuffs.

"Do it then," she snarled tauntingly into the darkness. "Do it and release your anger. No doubt you have as much of it pent up as I do."

Silence followed her rant. His breaths were still ragged but he steadily got them under control. Annabeth's heart was pounding. She wasn't thinking when she blindingly led them into the black but now that she had time to process what she was doing, it frightened her. What if he actually hit her? Luke would no doubt have him executed that night, even if she swore it was an accident. Maybe she was right in trying to get him take out his anger on her. Maybe it would break the wall between the two of them but if he started to hit her, would he be able to stop?

Seconds dragged by and he remained emotionless. Only a slight rattle of the chains suggested he was even there. Annabeth wanted to see his expression, wanted to know what he was thinking. He wouldn't care of the consequences but something held his fists at bay. Annabeth thought back to their first meeting and realised that whatever kept her from hitting him that night was the same thing that was preventing him also.

Annabeth finally bowed her head, walking backwards into the light. "I'm trying to help you and you are making it considerably harder."

"As if I care how hard your life is with your current predicament," he mocked, following her. His eyes were watching her, unreadable.

"She was your one chance to get a decent meal and you squandered it with your filthy tongue."

"Come off it," he scoffed. "She can handle a little bit of cheek. I know her type and she's certainly refreshing from Miss Straight and Narrow." He nodded at Annabeth when he said this. Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Stop acting like she's a piece of glass. Besides, I found out what she was doing here, didn't I?" he smirked, victorious.

Annabeth clenched her jaw. They seemed to have both agreed to forget about what happened just moments ago. She had given him too much information but then realised it shouldn't matter. The game of who was smarter than who was pointless; even if it was the only thing they had. Baiting and stirring each other was easier than admitting they both had chances to hurt one another and for some reason couldn't take the last step to do so.

"Look, I know we will never be best friends," she started. Perseus snorted and she stopped to glare at him. "But if we are going to keep you alive despite Luke's end plan then we need to start co-operating with each other."

"So Luke is going to kill me," he said casually.

"I believe so," she admitted. "He will keep up the notion of wanting answers for my sake only for a while longer. His animosity towards you is quite endearing. I think he was hoping he would torture you enough to make you beg for your death."

Perseus watched her thoughtfully, regarding her words. "I know Luke wants me dead. Has for years but what do you get out of this?" he asked finally.

"To see you alive, I suppose," she answered.

"And what then?" he pressed. "I'll live out the rest of my days in a dank cell? Oh, my heart will be beating but I'm not living. You know this will either end with both of us dying or us fleeing."

"I'll be back later today," she said breezily, trying to ignore his last comment. "If you comply and answer my questions we can give Luke the sense you are conforming."

Perseus laughed without humour. "Luke knows me better than you, Chase, and he knows I'm a lost cause and will never conform. He will come up with something to pull you away from me and when he does, then he will kill me."

"I won't let that happen," she told him slowly, pressing meaning into every syllable.

Perseus smiled at her attempt but he didn't have to say aloud that he didn't believe her. He looked at her as if she was a foolish child, virgin to the world of corruption and desolation. Annabeth strode back to the door unable to stare at his expression. As she was locking the door she couldn't help but look at him to see he was still regarding her shrewdly. She made an indignant noise in the back of her throat. Who was he to judge her or her motives? She had a plan and it would work if only he helped her with it and not squandered her.

Annabeth spotted Rhonda near the front of the prison but her mind was recalling Perseus' words. In truth, she hadn't thought further ahead than helping him have better living conditions. It wasn't as though she would have never thought about it; she just hadn't got to that part of her plan. It irked her to realise he could plan long term just as meticulously as her. Perseus always seemed to be one to act first without plotting and noting but she decided he probably didn't have much else to do in his cage all day. Did it really have to end in either escaping or dying?

"He has quite a way with words," Rhonda remarked casually as she fell in step with Annabeth.

"I'm sorry. I was hoping he wouldn't be himself for a change."

To her surprise, Rhonda started chortling. "Are you kidding? It's been a while since someone talked to me with such a tongue. They all dance around me like they're on egg shells."

"Did you hear yourself when you're angry? Even Luke has enough sense not to cross you. Perseus should know that too."

"His sharp words are all he has left," Rhonda said simply, facing Annabeth. "And your pride is what he targets. I think he secretly enjoys your company even if all he can do is annoy you. And I think you enjoy his as well."

"Perseus is not enjoyable," Annabeth stated. "I would rather spend time with spiders and you know I hate them. Besides, I've only known him for a week."

"Give it time and you'll see I'm right. Chef's notice everything."

Annabeth made a derisive noise but thought about his hesitancy about striking her. Could Rhonda be right? Footsteps echoed ahead of them in the hallway. She redirected them down a smaller corridor. They backtracked quietly at the end of the corridor, which lead them to one section of the living quarters, slipping into an unused hallway that would guide them to the kitchen.

"I'll help you," Rhonda murmured once they were alone outside the kitchen. "But it won't be easy."

"I don't expect you to stick your neck out for me," Annabeth said, although she was relieved. "If you make something extra and then I'll collect it and give it to him somehow…"

"No," Rhonda said sharply. "Luke will be expecting that from you. Already, I feel his has eyes watching you. My kitchen hands will get him the food. They can manoeuvre through places like you, except they can be invisible. I may even request myself onto the prison chain like you suggested in your note directly to Luke. He can't refuse something like that."

"There's a council meeting tonight," Annabeth said, remembering. "Can you get it to him before then?"

"I can work that out, love," Rhonda grunted, turning off towards the kitchen. She clasped Annabeth on the shoulder. "Don't worry, he'll get his food."

"Thank you," Annabeth said honestly, smiling gratefully at her.

"Think nothing of it, dear. I can not let someone eat that filth. Oh no."

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for those who have waited for this update. Life gets in the way sometimes. I'm hoping I'll be able to update faster for the future chapters. As you've noticed I'm hoping to introduce some supporting characters to the story plus start to give you insight into Annabeth's past but of course, Perseus will pry into that soon enough. Thoughts and opinions are appreciated. As always, these characters do not belong to me.<strong>


	4. Dead Air

**Chapter 4 – Dead Air - Perseus' Days Imprisoned 7**

"_I will never believe what they say, there is no strength in enduring, they never speak for themselves, we are disappearing"_

_ - CHVRCHES, "Dead Air."_

* * *

><p>"I'm just going to ask simple questions. Just answer with your preferred preference. Try and do it without thinking first; it makes the answer more honest."<p>

Perseus sighed. "If I must."

Annabeth looked at him steadily, ignoring his comment and started her questions. "Fly or ride?"

"Ride," Perseus stated without hesitation.

"Are you afraid of heights?" Annabeth queried.

"I can look out among cliffs perfectly without nausea," Perseus replied.

"But open air …" Annabeth prompted.

Perseus gave her a contemptuous look. "But nothing, Chase." Annabeth smirked at his attempted brush away. "Have you seen any planes or helicopters functioning since the fighting?"

"Dissenters destroyed them."

Perseus scoffed. "You have to blame us for everything, don't you?"

"We wouldn't be enemies if I didn't," Annabeth said, smiling sweetly.

Perseus rolled his eyes. "Let's just say both parties are to blame, mainly yours of course and move on?"

Annabeth bit back her retort. "Black or white?"

"Steel grey."

"Why?"

"Well if you truly want my favourite colour it's blue but limited to those options I pick steel grey. You can't define anything as just black or white."

"I can think of a few things …" Annabeth muttered.

"And that's your limitation," Perseus said unfazed. "I thought a strategist of your calibre would know this to be true."

"I make decisions with facts and precision. A situation can be subject to multiple scenarios but it's the people involved that are black or white in their choices."

"I disagree," Perseus snorted. "Pride is your flaw, Chase. When you try and see things differently, maybe you'll see the bigger picture."

"I see the picture fine," Annabeth snapped.

"Oh I'm sorry. Did I wound your pride?" he asked mockingly.

"At least I still have my pride," Annabeth said without thinking.

Silence befell them, with Perseus unwavering stare directed at her. Annabeth remained impassive, keeping his captured stare. He slowly leaned back against the wall, into the darkness. Annabeth didn't need the awkward silence to know she had crossed a line and the steady progress she was gaining had come to an abrupt halt. Perseus was receding back to whence he stood, covering who he was in the shrouds of his angered sarcasm.

"How little you know of me," was all he murmured.

Annabeth was surprised. Not from what he said but the tone he used. He still guarded the secrets of his people conscientiously and considering Annabeth's questions were more focused on him rather than his allies, he should have been more open. Yet, underlying his tone was a slight disappointment; as if Annabeth was supposed to have already decoded who he was. She watched him carefully then. His shoulders were slumped, head bowing often to be cradled in one of his hands, ruffling his unkempt mop of hair. She could sense his sadness for his deceased friends, a loneliness for peers that were far away without a prospect of returning. Even with a sharp tongue, Annabeth thought he was starting to slip into depression. She decided to ask another of her questions.

"Water or fire?"

Perseus sighed, tilting his head upwards. "Water."

"Ocean or lake?"

"Either. Water's water." Perseus scrutinized her reaction. "You really want to argue that, don't you?"

"I did until I realised you said it purposely for my benefit," Annabeth remarked, making Perseus smirk. "Gun or knife?"

"Depends on what the other guy has."

"Perseus," Annabeth warned.

"You requested an honest answer, Chase," replied Perseus.

"Would you prefer to drown rather than burn to death?"

"I would never drown," he declared, inspecting his fingernails.

"Rather cocky, aren't we?"

He looked at her. "I've been swimming since I was a toddler. I know the waters around this place. I won't drown."

"For argument's sake –," Annabeth began.

"Here we go," Perseus sighed.

"– that you were shackled to a weight then thrown into water," Annabeth finished, glaring after his interruption. "You wouldn't be able to swim free."

"I can certainly try."

"Next you'll tell me you can breathe underwater."

"My average underwater time is a few minutes," he clarified. "It's more than any other person."

"Would you rather be executed sunken by weights or burnt at the stake?" she asked abruptly, her impatience showing.

"Whoa. That's extremely sadistic, even for Castellan."

Annabeth resisted picking up a stray stone and throwing it at his head. "How would you prefer to die?" Annabeth rephrased.

"Now that's a better question." Annabeth glowered. "I would rather die quietly without pain but this world doesn't permit such a thing. I will die fighting for what I believe in, there's no question about it."

"Wolf or dog?"

Perseus slowly lifted his gaze to her. "Wolf." He smiled, baring his teeth before looking away.

Annabeth was sitting on her chair, watching Perseus pull at the threads of his rotting shirt. She was relieved that he had headed her words from earlier but when he wasn't remarking at her question choices, he spoke without infliction or emotion. Annabeth had expected the grief and depression to seep into his mind after maybe two weeks if he survived that long but after watching him Annabeth noticed he compartmentalised his emotions. The snippet of his emotions after her comment earlier had been pushed aside until he fell silent. His recent submission was a ploy.

"What are you up to?" Annabeth whispered, sitting forward.

Perseus looked up from his work of untangling his shirt, his eyes alight. A slight grin formed on his lips. "Seeing what it would be like to conform."

His eyes drifted towards the door before falling back onto Annabeth, his eyebrow quirked in question. Annabeth followed his gaze where Arron was quietly seated as guard. He was carving from a block of wood, the outcome of the shape still only known to the carver. Annabeth had always marvelled at Arron's skill of coaxing shapes from pieces of wood to reflect his imagination. He mainly carved animals and then gave them to people he thought reflected the animal. When Arron glanced over to them after they had fallen silent, Annabeth quickly averted her gaze, turning back to Perseus.

"I don't think you understand interrogation all that well," observed Perseus.

Annabeth noticed how he glanced towards the hole in the wall where the afternoon light snuck through. Being chained to the back wall he was stuck just out of reach of the light, which shone towards the bars of the cell. A slight longing grew in his eyes and Annabeth felt a little sorry for him.

"You prefer to be outside, always in constant motion," Annabeth said.

"Anyone would after being stuck in here," he replied ruefully. Realising he gave something away, he glared at Annabeth, returning to unthreading the ends of his shirt.

"Hasn't Kevin been on shift yet?" Annabeth questioned aloud, watching him.

"Who?" Perseus looked at her.

"No one," Annabeth replied, shifting in her seat.

"Right …" Perseus said slowly, squinting thoughtfully at her. "So it has something to do with me but you won't actually tell me about it. Makes perfect sense."

Annabeth gritted her teeth, fixing him with a stare. "You don't have to know anything besides the fact I'm finding ways to help your lifestyle here."

Perseus rose, shaking his wrists and making the chains rattle. He looked at her purposely. Annabeth sighed, restraining a frustrated reply. He walked towards her as far as he could go, letting her see his condition. It was with great resilience that Annabeth did not look away from his deteriorating frame.

Perseus changed the topic. "Have you thought about your purpose in this place?"

"It's only been hours since we last spoke," Annabeth scoffed.

"A record for you," he retorted. "I would assume it was top priority to you."

"Of course it is –."

"And not one minute devoted to figuring it out. Remarkable."

Annabeth clenched her jaw. "Why do I even bother talking to you? You are, determined, to be a pain in my arse."

"In your arse …" Perseus started thoughtfully.

"Don't you even dare," Annabeth warned, glaring.

He smirked. "Afraid you might like it?"

"You're getting off topic."

"Me? Your comment was rather suggestive. I was merely curious of your thought process."

"You took my comment and wound it to a sickened nature," Annabeth corrected.

"I would never do such a thing. Don't worry Chase. Whatever you were implying, I would never do to you."

"Now what's that supposed to mean?"

"I find you repugnant."

"The feeling's mutual."

"So you don't have to worry about me coming onto you."

"Please," Annabeth snorted. "How could you even think that?"

"Prison gives you hours and hours of endless boredom. Brooding thoughts are all I have for entertainment."

"You're disgusting."

"Just being honest, Chase."

"Well keep whatever fantasies about us dancing in a bed together to yourself."

"Oh, I see. You're more, natural style. Face to face. Chest to chest. Moan to moan…"

Annabeth snarled, lunging forward while Perseus laughed. She grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him towards her. Before she could take a swing the shirt ripped in her hands and Perseus reeled backwards. He recovered his footing and they stood staring at each other, the remnants of his shirt dangling from her hands. Annabeth looked from Perseus to the shirt to Perseus again, her anger dissipating from her surprise.

"Well … If you wanted to start so soon, you could've simply said so."

Annabeth opened her mouth to reply but she was speechless. She was shaking with fury again. A tap came from the door, making Annabeth spin on her heels. Arron was standing there, a large knuckle wrapping on the door to get her attention. He tapped his wrist and pointed with his head towards the exit. Annabeth sighed heavily, realising she was leaving one headache to attend another.

"Where're you going?" Perseus voiced drifted from behind her.

She faced him and noticed he was attempting to cover his shivers from the cool air. "I have to attend a council meeting."

"You still have those? I assumed Castellan kept all of your brains in jars."

"Very funny," Annabeth said sarcastically.

"No seriously. Was it during or after he bonked you that he corrupted you?" Perseus gazed at her thoughtfully. "Probably during now I come to think of it."

With a noise of disgust she turned, throwing his shirt towards him as hard as she could before striding to the opened door. Perseus chuckled making Annabeth face him again. He wasn't watching her but had his head bent down, scratching the back of his head.

"Why do you insist on antagonising me?"

"I've been trained to be the worst ever nuisance to the Extradites." Perseus shrugged. "It's in my nature. Plus, I have a lot of time on my hands to plot your grievances."

Annabeth rolled her eyes and swept from the room.

* * *

><p>"Okay, the council meeting is in session," Luke began, his scowling eyes lingering on Annabeth's before turning his head slowly to the other Extradites. She had arrived late; not that she cared. "We have a few issues to discuss tonight. Mitchell, would you like to start?"<p>

A tall, lanky man with watery eyes and twitching hands nodded quickly and recited numbers of food and weapon provisions. He would've been a handsome man yet years of bullying and belittling from Luke and his soldiers had whittled him down to a scared, nervous individual. Annabeth tuned him out, already knowing from her inspections that the supplies were dwindling. Her keen eyes watched Luke intently, who sat impassively at the head of the table, opposite her own seat at the other end.

She didn't trust his motives for her requested presence. A council member she may be and she attended their tedious meetings without invitation almost studiously, even when her valid points and opinions went unnoticed. Yet, Luke had already decided Annabeth needed to be taught a lesson and public humiliation was usually his forte. After dealing with Perseus, she wasn't in the mood to have someone else torment her.

"Luke, I really think our scout parties need to start looking for more supplies," Mitchell said nervously, avoiding Luke's gaze.

"Hmm…" Luke hummed thoughtfully, tapping his fingers on the table.

Annabeth lost interest in Luke's silent deliberation and gazed around the empty room. There were seven main members present on the council including herself. Luke was seated beside Tim and Ethan, his closest and most loyal. Beside Ethan on Luke's left was Mitchell, overseeing supplies and next to him was Will Solace. A terrific and dangerous sniper, with shaggy sun kissed hair and bright blue eyes, Will downplayed his lethal abilities by always wearing casual clothes, seeming most harmless. Annabeth got along with him when they spoke but their conversations were limited.

Two bear-like brothers sat on Tim's side of the table, arguing quietly with each other over something Annabeth couldn't quite make out. They never contributed to the conversations being quite dim-witted but followed Luke's orders without question. Like Arron, the two of them were found in a large cave, looking more like bears than humans. Living alongside humans for years hadn't improved their appearance either. Their hair was coarse, dark and long, their fingernails long and dirtied to look like claws. Luke named them Ag and Ore, considering all they mostly just grunted or moaned.

The old table they sat around was bare for a change, scratches and stains visible in flecks of light. The notes and papers that usually littered the table were piled untidily on a desk at the end of the room. A portable whiteboard stood near the window with a large map taking up most of its space. The map itself was a mess of graffiti with lines and crosses and sections coloured out where the scouts marked their progress. Some of those lines and crosses were done by Annabeth's own hand when she used to hunt for their enemy.

"Will," Luke said, faced the sniper. "The crops you've been co-ordinating with Miranda, what is the progress?"

Will sat back on his seat, brushing his hair from his forehead. "We're gathering the last of their gifts now." Will's voice was melodious, made for singing rather than commanding. "Coming into winter," he spread his hands helplessly. "We won't have anything until spring. Mitchell is right. We need to search for supplies now before winter truly sets in."

Luke nodded, fixing his eyes on Ethan. "Any places you know of?"

"There was a small encampment we infiltrated a week ago," he replied in his soft, deep voice. "Could still be something to salvage. A half days travel at most."

"We'll organise a scout team in a minute but I have another topic regarding our food supply."

Luke clenched his jaw in anger, his face set in a stony expression. From his pocket he pulled out a folded piece of paper, unfolding it and pausing slightly while he re-read the contents quietly to himself. His face grew darker with each line. Annabeth suspected she knew what had him annoyed.

"Rhonda, it seems has had word that our prisoner's meals were, less than satisfactory." His eyes found Annabeth's at this. She stared calmly back while inside she was dancing happily. "She has demanded that the Dissenter be placed on the same line as the rest of her contingents or we'll all be fed what he was until we change our minds."

He threw the note onto the table where a skidded towards the middle. All eyes drifted to it then back to Luke, apprehensive. He leant back in his chair, crossing one arm under the other where he held his chin, his fingers covering his mouth giving the air of sophistication and calm regard. Tim was the first to snatch up the note, his scowl deepening to disgust the further down he read. Eventually he tossed back on the table where Will picked it up.

"This is your doing," he accused Annabeth.

"Me?" Annabeth scoffed. "I have no say in the food." She sat forward, resting her elbows on the table. She really didn't like Tim.

"It says right here that she discovered the food for herself," Will pointed out, handing the note to Ethan. "Annabeth wasn't mentioned or apparently involved. Although by the sounds of it, Rhonda was pretty disgusted. I would like to know what you were feeding him."

"Stick to your spy work, Solace," Tim fumed.

"She sounds serious, Luke," Ethan addressed Luke, while Tim stared mutinously at Will. "I don't think we have a choice but to adhere to her request."

"That Dissenter doesn't deserve handouts," Tim cried outraged.

Luke silenced him with a hand. "I have already agreed to her request. He will get fed tomorrow by Rhonda. Her kitchen hands will manage bringing him food."

Tim's mouth opened in surprise. Ethan nodded, looking ready to put the issue behind them. Will remained silent and quickly stared at Annabeth before looking back towards Luke. Annabeth watched him carefully, wondering what his gaze meant. Ag and Ore were still bickering with each other.

"So, Annabeth," Luke started, fixing his dead stare upon her. "What word has our prisoner uttered in your ear? Can he give us his location or shall we call it a waste of resources?"

"Considering it's only me interrogating him and a rotation of only a few guards I'd hardly call it a strain on resources," Annabeth spat out, frowning at him.

"It's still an extra mouth to feed," Tim shot back. He was lounging with his feet on the table on Luke's immediate right but he sat up when he addressed Annabeth. He sneered at her, the scar on his eyebrow more pronounced as it perked up.

"Well now it is," Annabeth drawled. "You can hardly call what you were giving him food."

"I always knew you were a snitch," he declared.

Annabeth made a noise in the back of her throat. "Excuse me. You should know by now that Rhonda finds out about everything. Wasn't it she who caught you in her stockroom with Drew?"

Tim's face went pink and Annabeth noticed a few of the other members, including Ethan, smirk at Tim's embarrassment. Nearly everyone at the compound had heard Rhonda's yells of outrage as she pulled the both of them from her stockroom, clad only in their underwear and covered in flour. Rumour was that he had tried to flee but she barrelled him into a shelf. Rhonda showcased them in the main courtyard, tying them to a pole so everyone could see what the consequences were of using her stockroom for unsavoury purposes. Drew lost interest in Tim after they were finally cut down.

"Annabeth," Luke said sharply before Tim could voice his angry reply.

The council members sobered quickly under Luke's gaze. Tim shot Annabeth a look that was supposed to intimidate her. She just thought he looked like a spoilt child and quietly savoured her victory. If Thalia was at the compound she usually kept Annabeth company at the meetings but apart from her, Annabeth was always the only female present. Annabeth forced herself to gaze at Luke's demanding expression.

"Can you continue your report on the Dissenter prisoner without insulting the rest of the council?"

A sarcastic reply was on the tip of Annabeth's tongue but stopped herself from saying it. Perseus was a bad influence on her. "Perseus is stubborn to a fault. Being nearly beaten to death didn't help," she said pointedly at Luke. He remained impassive. "He knows how to manipulate an interrogation and he's clever enough to work his way out of any situation. Certainly knows how to be annoying," she added in a mutter.

"Basically, you're saying your job is pointless," Tim said, a hint of glee in his voice.

"No," Annabeth said slowly, facing him. "I'm saying physical abuse and normal interrogation won't be effective. If you remember my questioning got quite a lot from you."

"That's because I was interested in your non-verbal assets," Tim drawled, gazing down at her chest and then back. "A mistake your personality rectified."

Annabeth ignored the jibe. "Perseus is a man of the water but he seemed to miss it so I'm guessing their inland, somewhere far from any large lakes or oceans. He's strong and patient, resilient and has an air of being a leader. He's not the sole leader but people do listen to him when he voices his opinions."

"Facts we have already deduced from our intel," Ethan supplied, his forearm leaning on the table surface so he could face her.

"The inland part is new though," Luke mused. "Nakamura pull our scouts from any coastal places, focus them more central." He turned to Annabeth again. "Anything else?"

There was. Annabeth had noticed other subtle details Perseus gave away but something held her tongue. Maybe because there were still gaps that didn't add up that she would have to figure out or maybe she was just in a rebellious faze since Luke had slapped her. Deep down, Annabeth knew both excuses weren't true. It was the beginning of something else between her and Perseus.

"I want to know how far from here the Dissenter party was captured," said Annabeth, gazing directly at Luke.

"A few miles north-east," Luke replied instantly. He cocked his head slightly to the side. "Why is that important?" he queried.

"His eyes drift towards the gap in the cell. It's facing east," Annabeth said, not lying but not revealing her actual explanation.

"So? He wants to be outside, free. It's the only spot he can see of the sky," Luke brushed away.

"Maybe …" she agreed slowly, thinking of Perseus' expression.

"We compassed the site in each direction from where they were taken and came up with nothing," Luke told her. "Next meeting I'll be expecting more information. We must return to the main issue brought up by Mitchell. We will send a scout crew to do a supply run." He stood then, walking to the map on the whiteboard. "The encampment will be a start then travel south." He traced his finger in the path he wanted. "There might be something there."

"I volunteer to go," Tim offered, rising from his seat. Annabeth rolled her eyes, wondering if she used to look as Tim did. She felt suddenly sick.

Luke shook his head. "You are to stay here with me and organise our rations and spare weapons. Start to teach people how to use them." Tim sullenly took his seat. Annabeth suspected he was to remain at the compound for another purpose but kept the thought to herself. "Five should be enough. Jenkins will lead them with Arron to guard him. He's been growing restless of late. Michael Yew can track well for game. Annabeth, I am removing your compound confinement. You will join the scout party."

Annabeth straightened in her seat. "What?" she burst out.

"Haven't you been pestering me for months about getting back out into the field?" Luke raised an eyebrow. "I have finally seen the value of you being more active in our cause and relent to your wishes."

Annabeth couldn't believe it. The one time that she wanted to stay, needed to keep an eye on Luke was when he decided to remove her. If she wasn't so surprised she would have called it a well-conceived tactical manoeuvre.

With effort, she composed herself. "Is it really to accept my request or so you can torture Perseus while I'm gone?"

"That's none of your concern," Luke said steely. Annabeth's nostrils flared. "Do as you're told and we won't have a problem. Jackson is a prisoner of the Extradites, not some recruit that has gone wayward. Remember his place, Annabeth. You will report to Jenkins tomorrow morning or else join Jackson in _brutal_ punishment. Solace, you will be the final member. If that is all of the business, this meeting is adjourned."

Beneath the frown on Luke's face there was a glint of victory. He thought he had outsmarted Annabeth. Tim was beside himself with joy, while Ag and Ore finally stopped arguing and looked to Luke for instruction. They yearned to travel again but they were still unpredictable without Luke at their side and he never left the compound. Will merely nodded at his command, neither bothered nor overjoyed at the decision.

The men rose from their seats, Tim going over to whisper to Luke. Ethan slipped quietly out the door, not bothering to look behind him. Ethan always acted strange but he was a determined and ruthless fighter that appealed to Luke's tactical takeover. Annabeth got to her feet, determined not to give Luke any more satisfaction. She had to see Perseus immediately and arrange for Kevin to keep an eye on him while she was away. Having no idea when Thalia would return, Rhonda and Kevin were the only ones she could rely on.

She followed Will towards the door, her gait slower as her mind worked. It appeared her plans to help Perseus would have to been rearranged and accelerated. It would help if he would confine more details to her but there was still the issue of trust. Didn't help that she had made him shirtless coming into the cooler nights and having no way of wearing another shirt with his hand in chains… Annabeth paused halfway through the door. If she could open the cuffs, Kevin and the kitchen hands would be able to smuggle things to him.

"Who has the keys to Perseus' cuffs?"

Luke and Tim both looked at her, surprised she was still present.

"He won't be released from his chains," Luke stated.

"If I'm not here to talk to him, he should at least be free to stretch and move around," Annabeth argued.

"Tim, leave us," Luke ordered. "Ag, Ore, you too. What for me outside my room."

With a slight bow of the head, Tim left not missing the opportunity to bump Annabeth's shoulder on the way out. Ag and Ore looked a bit lost and slumped out, grunting and whimpering with each step. Annabeth shook her head. Luke inspected the map, taking his time before talking. He wanted to show Annabeth who was in charge, Annabeth was going to show him just how wrong he was. Luke walked back to the edge of the table.

"Why must you continue to defy me?" Luke asked slowly, raising his head to face her.

"The Luke I used to know would not have condoned this," Annabeth said sadly, remembering the Luke she loved.

"He was weak," Luke replied in a small voice. He placed his fist on the table, rising it so it balanced on his knuckles. His face watched the movement of his wrist intently. He turned so Annabeth could see the scar. The moment he got it had changed the both of them. He faced her with a hard expression. "I'm doing what needs to be done to survive. A few months ago you wouldn't have had a problem with this."

"A few months ago I hardly recognised myself," Annabeth stated. She took a step forward. "This situation isn't ideal but we can't continue to treat each other like animals."

"They _are_ feral! They've lost their humanity," he fumed.

"And I could say the same for some of us," Annabeth countered.

"So you think I've become some sort of animal?" he whispered dangerously.

"No, Luke I'm saying –." Annabeth started to say but Luke would have none of it.

"Well let's see how animal like I can be." He strode forward, stopping inches from Annabeth's face. She didn't flinch. "You don't give prisoners free reign and Jackson will never be free unless I kill him. I will taunt you with the keys, so you know what it's like to be so close to something but be prevented from having it."

She could see he wanted to hit her. Punish her for making him angry. Taunting him would release his restraint but she desperately wanted to. It would show the others who doubted their mission like Annabeth who their leader was becoming but instead she turned and left, leaving him standing in the doorway with his anger.

She should've headed to her room but she needed to talk to someone first. The front guards were absent, probably summoned by Luke to get their new orders. Lanterns with bright bulbs emitted the pathway, leading her to Kevin, who stood when he noticed her. He quickly unlocked the cell and then waited patiently for her.

"You heard?" Annabeth asked and Kevin nodded.

"Rhonda's kitchen hands overheard. I know what I have to do while you're away but I thought you might want to give him this now."

Kevin handed Annabeth an old blanket, the edges flayed from its age. Annabeth gave Kevin a small smile, placing her hand against his cheek. She let it run from his face as she went into the cell, hearing the door close behind her.

"Perseus," Annabeth called out.

"Third visit in one day, what has gotten into you?" he replied, emerging from the corner with the gap above it.

Annabeth was momentarily taken aback by his dirty shirtless chest but quickly recovered before he noticed. She wouldn't hear the end of it. In that short gaze she noticed the patches of yellowing bruising on his prominent ribs. His forearms and biceps were still covered in distinct but receding muscle and odd scars were stark against the dirt. His jeans clung to his hips almost desperately.

"I don't have time to joke," Annabeth said, trying to convey the seriousness. Of course, Perseus ignored it.

"Really? But you were just starting to get the hang of it."

"Perseus I'm being sent away tomorrow on a scouting raid," Annabeth blurted in her annoyance.

"Ah …" Perseus sobered. He walked in a line as far as the chains allowed, thinking and nodding occasionally. "Castellan is rather predictable then." Perseus turned to her and smiled. "Scouting raid, did you say?"

"Yes. Our supplies are running low but next time …" Annabeth drifted off.

"It will be to find us," Perseus finished with a nod. He was still smiling. "Well, the choice is upon you now, whether you wanted it to be or not."

"How can you be smiling at a time like this? You know as soon as I leave he will –."

"Send his henchmen in to antagonise me." He smirked turned devilish. "I want to see them try."

"And when you are physically incapable of eating or, or doing anything?"

Perseus shrugged. "Times are tough. Are you worried for me, Chase?" He winked.

"Of course not," she snapped, folding her arms across her chest.

"I think you are, just a little bit."

"Would you shut up? This is for you."

Annabeth tossed the blanket to him. He inspected it, feeling the threads beneath his fingers. He threw it around his shoulders, pretending to model it to an unimpressed Annabeth. He kept it wrapped around his shoulders and she thought she detected a slight sigh of comfort.

"Why do you continue to deny the path your choosing?" Perseus said softly, looking at her. It was the first time he didn't sound cynical. "Why is it so hard to admit you aren't happy where you are?"

"I am happy where I am," Annabeth stubbornly replied. She lost a little venom from her tone.

"Don't worry, Chase," Perseus said, slipping back into the darkness. "I'll keep your secret from unwanted ears."

"There's no secret to withhold," Annabeth insisted.

"Okay then, Chase," Perseus' voice sighed. "And don't fret your little heart on my health. I'll still be here when you get back."

Realising the dismissal, Annabeth quietly exited the cell, wondering what she'll be left with in a few days.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks to you, the readers. A few more old characters brought into the story. It's just starting to get interesting as Annabeth and Perseus start to work together so stick with me.<em>


	5. Punching In A Dream

**Chapter Five – Punching In A Dream - Percy's Days of Imprisonment – 11 – 13**

"_They'll get through, they'll get you, in the place that you feel it the most; when you're cornered, when it's forming, in the place that you wish was a ghost"_

_The Naked and Famous, "Punching In A Dream"_

Annabeth stormed past the inspection at the entrance to the compound, without a second glance to her comrades. She was exhausted with little to no sleep since she left for the scouting trip. She had forgotten how taxing the trips were; not just on her body but her mind from being constantly vigilant. Her pack felt like a huge boulder nestled between her shoulders, reminding her just how successful their trip was but she put her woes behind her as she surged forward.

She hurried down the corridors, ignoring the stares and dodging the curious members drifting towards the guys with their spoils. When the crowd became too dense, she slid behind a statue that hid a narrow passageway, leading her only a few hallways from her destination. She placed her hand over the pocket of her jeans, making sure the key was still secured firmly there.

Luke had never been clever with his words and it only took Annabeth the walk to the site to realise Jenkins had the keys to Perseus' chains. The harder part was finding where he kept the keys and then stealing them without anyone in the camp noticing. Jenkins was a serious man, having been part of the army before the war. His hair was cut short to his skull, his jaw strong and clean shaven with a prominent nose above a hard set mouth. His dark eyes were hawk-like, watching for enemies constantly. The only time he wasn't serious was when he had a few drinks.

Annabeth waited until the last night when Michael produced his stash of ale and they devoured two large bottles apiece before she took the key she needed. Will came into the clearing from guard duty just as she pocketed the key and she was sure he knew what she was doing but he had mentioned nothing of it that night or on the way home so Annabeth was given a reprieve. His eyes seemed to follow her more closely though. Arron always sat with his back to their campsites, carving his animals while watching for any unwanted visitors, not caring for the issues of his comrades.

Ag and Ore were sitting at the prison entrance, attempting to play a game of checkers. From what Annabeth could understand as she slipped by was that Ore had made an illegal move and the two of them were arguing about who was right. At least they would never change, she thought to herself. Kevin stood when they saw each other, his shoulders relaxing as he strode towards her. She found herself sighing as he embraced her, missing the comfort from a friend.

"I'm glad you're alright," he whispered to her, his voice tender.

Annabeth broke his embrace, giving him a small smile, hating the fact that she could never love him as strongly as he loved her. He gently brushed her cheek with his fingers, creases of a frown appearing when he looked into her face.

"I'm just tired," Annabeth explained, giving him another weary smile. "And it was only a food run, of all things."

"You know it won't always be a food run," Kevin told her.

"I know," Annabeth sighed. "I need to start training again tomorrow, maybe even later tonight after a few hours sleep." Annabeth looked towards the cell bars, growing tense with trepidation. A faint rattling from the chains inside told Annabeth that he was at least alive, in what condition was what worried her. She looked back to Kevin. "How is he?" she asked in a low voice.

"They came in a couple of times, never with Luke though. It was, a bit rough, but he didn't seem to care that much. He just took it, passed out, woke up, ate the food Rhonda sent up, drank some water and waited patiently until they came again."

"This is my fault," Annabeth said guiltily, bowing her head. "If I have just argued more he wouldn't …" She let the words drift off, brushing hair from her face.

"Come now, that's not true. You saved his life."

"Did I, Kev? Look at what he has to put up with."

"You're trying to rectify that," Kevin reasoned. "He's improving with all the meals Rhonda's giving him and I have clothes underneath the seat there waiting. Not to mention the lights they've forgotten they brought in." Kevin studied her closely. "Hey, you are usually the resilient one. What's brought all this doubt on?"

"Seeing him in there and hearing what he says …" Annabeth trailed off, forcing her doubts back. "I'm just having a rough day, that's all."

"You know, I think he actually enjoyed the guys coming in," Kev mused thoughtfully. "I had never heard him quite talkative. I'm surprised you haven't hit him yourself from what I overheard him saying."

Annabeth grinned. "It's certainly a challenge. I better go see him."

Annabeth slipped into the cell quietly, after the briefest of smiles from Kevin. The cell now had soft light emitting from 'borrowed' lamps. Annabeth wasn't sure whether the lighting improved the cell or made its dank and depressive state more pronounced. Either way, she was glad that her friends were helping her to keep him alive, even though it was risking their lives for an unknown enemy.

Annabeth was surprised to realise that Perseus had not noticed her entry or even remarked on her presence. He seemed to be caught up with his own plans, which currently seemed to be breaking free from his remaining chain. Annabeth was impressed to see he had wormed his left wrist from its cuff, with only minor cuts to his hand.

Perseus' was lying flat on his back, the chain extended to its furthest point. He wiggled and pulled his wrist, making the chain rattle and coil like an angry snake. It gave answer to where the noise had been coming from. Kevin must have known he was breaking free and while he could not assist him directly, studiously ignoring Perseus' attempts of freedom was his next best option. Annabeth wasn't sure how he planned to achieve his escape with his current manoeuvre but it sure was a comical sight.

"I have the key to that," Annabeth called out.

Perseus turned his head, clearly startled, but he hid it well. Annabeth was grinning at him and he frowned at her, not understanding the joke. He sat up slowly and crossed his legs, placing his free hand in his lap and scrutinizing her appearance as she made her way towards him.

"If it isn't G.I. Jane as I live and breathe," he breathed out.

Annabeth rolled her eyes at his statement, only briefly looking down to check what she was wearing. Her singlet was covered by a dark long sleeved shirt and a worn leather jacket Kevin had given her that was too small for him. The black jacket was her favourite because of its woollen hoodie attached to the collar and she never travelled without it; it was almost as if it was a part of her skin. Jeans protected her legs from the oncoming chill and combat boots worn from years of use cushioned her aching feet. Her gun was tucked safely in her bag but she had a knife stashed on her belt at her back. She supposed she did look like she was ready for a fight.

"You look more like your attitude," Perseus continued, his eyes on her. "All fight, no reasoning."

"I can reason quite effectively," Annabeth argued.

A chuckle escaped Perseus' lips. "You try Chase. Your friends on the other hand …"

"I heard you had visitors," Annabeth said conversationally. She paused a comfortable distance away, his face still shrouded. She wanted to see the damage for herself but also afraid too. The blanket she had given him was wrapped around his shoulders and chest.

"Yes and I have them to thank for my, well, half release," he replied. "Carry on then."

His right arm was pulled up at what must have been an uncomfortable angle but he made no noise or motion to move. Taking this as a submission, Annabeth came to him, pulling the key from the pocket of her jeans as she went.

She knelt beside him, careful in her movements. It was the first time she was right beside him and not shaking with rage. Her breaths were a little hitched but she calmly got them under control. She took a glance at the crown of his head and then gently placed her left hand on his arm to take its weight. He flinched at her touch, rattling the chain and making her jump but he couldn't pull it away so he didn't try. Annabeth waited another minute or so before lifting the key slowly to the latch and freeing his wrist. As she predicted, his hand dropped with its sudden freedom but with her hand on his forearm it stayed aloft. Smiling even though he couldn't see it, Annabeth placed his arm at his side. She turned to give him space but suddenly her left wrist was held firmly in his grip.

Annabeth gasped in surprise, facing his inscrutable stare. She was so focused on freeing him before Jenkins realised his key was missing she hadn't realised how close she had gotten to an enemy. Heart racing, eyes wide, Annabeth found herself captured by his eyes, dark in her shadow with only a flickering of green visible. He too, was breathing heavily, though he had restrained it so only his chest heaved. Annabeth realised she had just freed a prisoner who wanted very much to kill her. Surprisingly, she did not feel afraid.

"Annabeth!" Kevin cried. Her gasp had echoed in the emptiness of the cell. In her peripherals, Annabeth saw Kevin approach the door, moving to try and get a better view on the situation; the light only travelled so far. "Is everything okay?"

It would take only one word for Kevin to rush into the room and then it would be a fight to the death for Perseus. His grip on her wrist was strong, stronger than Annabeth thought he could have achieved in his malnourished state. The slightest move from Annabeth could make her wrist twist and break but then she would have the advantage of being well fed and trained in such situations to overcome the barrier. No, Annabeth had decided watching Perseus wait for the next move, he was not going to hurt her.

"Yes," Annabeth called back, her voice strangely calm. "I'm fine. I just slipped on a stray stone."

There was the slightest widening of Perseus' eyes that suggested he didn't think she would lie from him. That annoyed Annabeth but she kept that annoyance from showing and gave him a level gaze. He slowly pried his fingers from her wrist, exhaling his withheld breath. He broke their stare at that moment, bringing his own arm to his lap and looking away. Annabeth let herself have a small sigh before returning to her business-like state. She got to her feet and went to the door, asking Kevin to fetch a first aid kit and the clothes. Kevin nodded, handing her the clothes and went to fetch someone, so he could resume his post.

Annabeth turned back to watch Perseus, who was rubbing his wrist and stretching out his cramped muscles. As if sensing her gaze, Perseus looked at her.

"Just had to see if my arm was still functioning," he told her, a feral grin stretching on his lips.

Annabeth said nothing but continued to watch him. He gave her a slight shrug and continued to rub out his tension trying to act indifferently. In truth, she was trying to study him, figure out his motives but several possibilities sprang to mind and only half-matched his apparent nature. Something else was in Annabeth's mind too and it was the fact that during their tense closeness, something had passed between them. And it was something, Annabeth was beginning to think, that would affect their relationship in a dramatic way. Try as she might, waiting for the first aid kit, she couldn't shake that feeling.

She waited by the door until the kit came. She spotted the lamp and picked it up. Perseus hadn't left his spot on the ground but he did look up to watch her approach. He eyed the first aid kit and clothes as if it was a foreign sign he couldn't read and then looked at her with a silent demand for an explanation. Annabeth's eyes were on the swollen cuts on his face and travelled to the red wrists and broken knuckles. She knew without having to remove the blanket that his chest would be peppered with bruises also. She knelt beside the chair, placing the kit down beside one of the legs before patting the chair with you hand.

"Sit on this," she told him, gazing directly into his eyes.

Slowly, as if being pulled against his will, Perseus rose and stumbled the couple of steps to the chair, where he slumped against the back and the arms. Annabeth examined the contents of the kit, pulling out the things she needed and ignoring the bare chest that was inches from her cheek. She poured some of the antiseptic liquid onto gauze, gently lifting Perseus' closest wrist so she could hold it. He flinched at the contact but didn't pull away and Annabeth felt how cold his skin was. She placed the gauze onto his wrist as softly as she could, to minimize the sting but Perseus still hissed through his teeth at the contact.

"I can do that myself," Perseus snapped softly.

Annabeth had rubbed liquid over his wrist and was now applying a bandage to it. When he spoke, she looked up from her crouched position, giving him a soft, reassuring smile. She cut the bandage roughly in half and stepped across to repeat her doctoring to his other wrist.

"I know," Annabeth said just as softly. "But just let me do it this time, okay?"

"Is your guilt eating you up, Chase?" he asked. Annabeth ignored him. "Can you tell that kitchen wench that she can cook? I've never had such a good feed."

Annabeth stopped her work to glare at him. "She's not a wench."

Perseus waved his bandaged hand dismissively. "Trust me, she loves it." He winked at her. Annabeth made a derisive noise before pressing the antiseptic a little more firmly against his sores.

"They won't like the bandages on my wrists," Perseus pressed after taking a sharp breath from the stinging pain. He narrowed his eyes at her forceful treatment.

"I'm not afraid of them, or Luke," Annabeth stated, starting to bandage his wrist. She could feel Perseus watching her but she focused on the bandage. "Or you, for that matter," she added, getting a faint smile in reply. She sighed and stood up, examining the cuts on his face. He seemed to know what she was about to do and shifted so she could access his face more clearly. He winced as the antiseptic hit raw skin, never crying out in pain but not missing the chance to glare darkly at her.

"Easy Chase," he said through gritted teeth. "You sure you have the right stuff?"

"Of course I do," she snapped, slyly checking the bottle when he wasn't looking.

"It feels as though you're doing more damage than helping," he gasped angrily.

"Well, I'm not," she stroppily said. "You complain more than Thalia."

"Thalia," Perseus murmured to himself. "Is she one of your other recruits?"

"I have no idea," Annabeth muttered truthfully, earning a quizzical look from Perseus.

"That makes perfect sense," he commented, receiving a glare from Annabeth. "Her name sounds familiar."

"Well I'm finished," Annabeth stated, throwing the dirtied pads in heap in the kit. She picked up the black singlet and smoky blue coloured long sleeved shirt and tossed them to him. "Since you're so worried about them discovering I patched you up," she explained to his queried glance.

"Like I care what they do to you," he replied Annabeth couldn't help but notice that there was no real emotion in it; as if he only said it automatically.

Perseus started to put his singlet on and his hiss of discomfort from stretching the bruises of his ribs didn't pass Annabeth. He had the singlet resting against his shoulders when he paused, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he glanced towards her.

"You've forgotten a few bruises," he remarked, gesturing to his chest.

"I'm not rubbing anything on your chest," she said calmly, rising from her crouch with the kit in hand.

"Afraid you might like it?" he winked, leaning back on the chair.

"I wonder what your mates would say if they heard you flirting with the enemy?" she questioned, stumping his smile for a few seconds.

"Come on supervisor," he cajoled. "I need help."

"You've got that right," Annabeth muttered darkly. She sighed in defeat, resting back down on her haunches. "One word to anyone and I will give you extra bruises."

"I've never met anyone who doesn't like it a little bit rough." Annabeth punched him in the arm.

She set about mixing the herbs and creams together for a bruise tonic she was taught years before. She could feel the Perseus' curious eyes on her work but he remained silent. It was only from her angle that Annabeth could hear the laboured breathing coming from her charge above her, realising he might have been in more pain than he let on. Annabeth looked up into his eyes and he seemed to know without a word from her that he didn't have to mask his pain any longer.

"You'll have to sit up a bit straighter," Annabeth told him a few minutes later. The bandages were soaking in the tincture; a trick Annabeth had picked up from a fallen Extradite. "Can you manage that?" she asked, not unkindly.

Perseus nodded, taking a deep breath before sitting upright, wincing and grunting at the movement. He lifted his head and closed his eyes, laboured breaths escaping through clenched teeth. Annabeth propped up into a kneeling position, grabbing the end of the dripping bandage from the bowl. With careful movements she placed it just under his nipple line, pressing his elevated hand to it while she started to wrap the rest of it around his torso.

"It's cold," was the first thing he said. He smiled and breathed out his chuckles in a surprised sort of way. "I wasn't expecting it to be cold."

"Part of how it works," said Annabeth, methodically wrapping the bandage around him. She tried to ignore the proximity of his chest near her face when she was working near his back but it was a struggle. She shook herself mentally, repeating that he was an enemy, not a friend. "Once you can't feel the coolness of the bandage you can take it off."

"It wouldn't stay cool for long, would it?"

"The tincture doesn't take very long to work its magic." Annabeth smiled ruefully.

"Where'd you learn to do this?"

"Bits and pieces here and there," replied a vague Annabeth. "Those people are long gone though. Didn't you ever get taught tinctures and plant uses?"

"Just basic stuff," Perseus replied with a deep exhale. "I was never much of a student."

"That doesn't surprise me," Annabeth muttered dryly and Perseus grinned at her.

Annabeth finished not long afterwards, tucking the end under the bottom bandage rolls. Her fingers tingled from touching the bare skin covering his ribs but she quickly pulled away and threw the bowl into the kit with haste. Perseus breaths were evening out to a steady rhythm as he threaded his arms through his singlet and placing the smoky blue shirt over the top. It was a bit big on him, having come from Kevin with his broad shoulders and thick arms but he didn't remark on it. He moved his arms and picked at it, moving it to a more comfortable position on his shoulders. Annabeth smiled from her knelt position at his side, ducking her head to fix the kit.

"I've never noticed this before," Perseus commented lightly before his fingers brushed against Annabeth's neck after she had raised her head.

Annabeth stiffened in surprise, her breath caught in her chest. His fingers pulled away from her skin, taking with them a leather chord of her necklace. She remained still, watching his movements while he brought it closer to examine it. He caressed the five different coloured clay beads that slid towards him, his eyes focused on the inscriptions. They eventually drifted upwards to her.

"What do they mean?" he asked curiously.

Annabeth hesitated slightly before answering. "It's to remind me how many years I've lived in war and survived against the hardships." She looked down after she said this, hoping to keep the other truth from showing in her mannerisms. Thalia and Luke had suggested they commemorate their survival on a yearly basis and for the first few years they each were made the same bead. Thalia soon complained that the necklace annoyed her and Luke became leader and couldn't worry about such trivial things and they both abandoned the whole idea. Annabeth would have but Kevin talked her into keeping it but for her own reasons. So the beads were a mark of survival, but they had also developed into another personal meaning.

"Five years, huh?" Perseus murmured in awe, guiding his fingers across the clay beads. "Such a long time with so many deaths."

Perseus looked like he wanted to say something but just couldn't seem to find the words. He scanned her face, giving her a small smile before letting the necklace slip from the tips of his fingers to sit back against Annabeth's chest. His gaze remained on the necklace but his mind was elsewhere. Annabeth knew who he was thinking of and feeling pity at his helplessness, spoke instead of another thing after rising to her feet.

"Hey, you're my charge, remember? We can work something out. And I recall someone telling me that I was their superhero and therefore had to look after them."

There was a short pause and then Perseus murmured in reply. "I said 'supervisor'."

"Really?" Annabeth asked with a mocking frown. "I think you meant superhero at heart."

Perseus huffed out a breath of a chuckle, bowing his head to hide a smile. Annabeth felt the corners of her own mouth lift and Perseus lifted his head before she could erase it. His expression he gave her had changed from the one she was used to. His eyes weren't hard but a little curious, as if he was a young puppy getting to explore a new and different backyard for the first time.

This caused the rest of his face to soften as well. Even with the sharpness of hallowed cheek bones and his hair covered jawline, his mouth was no longer pressed into a tight line. They looked fuller and appeared to want to part and ask questions that his eyes wanted to know the answers to.

"Will you be back tomorrow?"

Annabeth watched him as he absently rubbed the bandages at his wrists. He hadn't moved far from the chair yet, still used to the restriction of his chains. His appearance continued to resemble a wild animal and despite a moment earlier where he looked almost human, Perseus' posture told Annabeth that he was still hesitant to trust her entirely.

"I'll try," she replied, picking up the kit. "But they will be a debrief tomorrow that could take up most of the day."

"You'll be leaving more frequently," he stated, not bothering to ask.

Annabeth had taken a few steps towards the door but paused after he spoke. She dropped her head slightly, turning back to him.

"I believe that's Luke's intention, yes."

"Why did you save me?"

"I don't know."

Silence followed her statement while the pair of them gazed at each other, determining, judging, weighing up their options. When Perseus spoke his voice was deep and serious, his eyes hard and unwavering.

"Whatever your reason was, try to remember it out there."

* * *

><p>Annabeth fought against the Wing Chun wooden dummy, taking countered breaths as she ducked, whacking her forearms and fists in methodical precision. She had been in the hall for hours and through the gaps near the roof she noticed the beginnings of the morning light rising. After depositing her raid findings to Rhonda and devouring two helpings of the evening meal, a tedious and rather tiresome debrief, Annabeth had snuck in a few hours sleep a night before she was up and running laps of the hall, feeling the exertion of her muscles as she ran.<p>

She had dreaded returning to the hall, the memory of her last visit very vivid in her unconscious state but it had been spotlessly cleaned so no remnants of the execution was visible. The hall had been returned to the gym and fitness room Annabeth had practically lived in when they made the school their base and she was glad that she was the only one using it that very morning. But she knew the solitude wouldn't last for long after the sun was up.

A crack echoed in the hall at Annabeth's final hit against the dummy. She grunted angrily in pain, pulling her forearm towards her, the red outline already forming into a bruise. Inspecting the dummy and finding nothing, Annabeth turned away, heading for her kit. Overall, she realised just how much being stuck at the compound had affected her fitness and muscle capacity. She remembered how agile and light she was on her feet, weaving through the obstacles with ease, even with rubber bullets being shot in her direction. After a few hours of running and honing her hand to hand combat with the punching bag and then the Wing Chun she was exhausted and out of breath. Her singlet clung to her back, her gym shorts now lifting a little higher than she was comfortable revealing. She sighed, her stomach grumbling its hunger filled tune.

Stripping off her sparing gloves, Annabeth wiped her forehead against her sweatband on her forearm before it too was thrown into the bag without a second glance. Black tape circled her knuckles and hand and she flexed her fingers, feeling the stiff edges cut into her flesh. She began to unravel the tape at her left hand when footsteps approached. She discerned three different people, two heavier than the other. An angry remark had Annabeth looking down at her half unwrapped hand resigned, before she started to re-tape it.

The doors burst open and Luke strode in, his face thunderous. Ag and Ore hesitated a few feet from the entrance, clearly at a loss of what to do except try to keep up with him. Annabeth didn't flinch at his scathing gaze, methodically reapplying her tape and then grabbing her gloves back out of her bag. There would be one way to dissolve their argument.

"Leave! I have no need of you," Luke snapped at his bodyguards. They sullenly turned and left, Ore whimpering slightly.

Luke's attention returned to Annabeth. She took a long drink from her water bottle, wiping her towel over her face while he glared at her indifference. She was pulling her gloves on, waiting until he burst out his current annoyance with her although she didn't need three guesses to deduce its origin.

"You set the whelp free?" he asked, nostrils billowing.

"I released Perseus from the chains in his cell, yes," she answered, flexing her fingers to search for strained spots. "I haven't freed him from prison."

"You're only one step away from it."

"He had already escaped from one cuff. It wouldn't have been long until he got out of the second one."

"I warned you not to defy me," he replied scathingly.

Annabeth stared at him evenly. "If you didn't want him freed, you shouldn't have told me who you gave the keys to. Honestly, Luke, did you really think I wasn't going to figure it out?" Luke seemed too angry for words, which was when Annabeth sighed and walked towards the mat in the centre of the hall. "Find a pair of gloves, Luke."

"What?" he growled.

"I said," Annabeth started, facing him with her hands slightly raised. "Find a pair of gloves."

Catching on, Luke strode to the set of lockers beside the stage, never taking his eyes from her. Annabeth stretched her neck, shaking out her arms and rolling her shoulders. Luke almost ripped off his button up shirt, stuffing it into the locker where he grabbed black sparring gloves similar to Annabeth's. Black appeared his current colour of choice with his black singlet creasing with his movements and the shorts he was currently thrusting his legs into. Annabeth kicked off her shoes, bouncing on her toes to get her balance.

Luke's movements were jerky and sharp from his pent up anger. He slammed the door to the locker closed, thrusting on his gloves as he strode opposite Annabeth on the mat. Hardened blue eyes met the cool, steel grey ones. Close up, Luke looked the part of a warrior even if he didn't have the scar on his face. Gone was his smile or the light in his eyes. Annabeth noticed the pale skin across chiselled cheek bones, dark shadows sculpting his eyes. She wondered whether he slept at all. Clenching her fists, she raised them to her guard position, shifting her body accordingly, so only a part of her was exposed to Luke. He propped his weight back on one foot but left his body quite open, his guard only halfway to his face.

"I won't hold back," he warned her.

Annabeth let the corners of her mouth lift with the preparation of an oncoming assault. "I don't expect you to."

Luke strode forward, determination mixed with his anger set his expression into a hard scowl. Annabeth ducked under his first swing, quickly darting to the side as his next swing aimed at her ducked head. She back stepped, changing her position to avoid another powered jab from Luke. She propped back on her left foot, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She jabbed with her right, losing impact from being back on the wrong foot so Luke easily deflected it, advancing with another hook.

Annabeth had to be careful and Luke knew this. Luke could not have visible bruises to his face or forearms, for then she would be suspected of attacking their leader, resulting in death or banishment if they were feeling merciful. Luke would not defend her any longer and Annabeth wasn't about to die. She had to restrain her attack to only his chest and legs, severally handicapping her. Luke could attack freely and was doing so but his attacks were marred by his anger. Although his aim was true, Annabeth was swifter on her feet and hoped to tire him with continual mishits; she waited patiently for her opening.

Luke copped the first hit to chest. Annabeth had swerved and blocked her way under his guard, taking her opportunity to drive as many jabs into his chest before he could grab her upper arms and push her away. Her balance kept her upright. Luke circled her, wanting to get out of her line of vision but Annabeth copied him, keeping the distance between the two of them the same length.

"I see you still remember who trained you," Luke mused through his panted breaths. "Your technique is the resemblance of mine."

Annabeth rushed forward, jabbed a one-two combo, dancing backwards afterwards to dodge a counterattack. "Athena taught me to defend myself, Luke. You just fined tuned it."

Luke's smile was predatory at the comment, trying to feign an attack to her right then charge to her left but Annabeth read it, spinning from his fist directed at her ribs. She swung her leg over with her momentum, hitting him just above his kidneys. He lurched away with a grunt of pain, his hand going to his side. He gave her that same evil smile as he turned to face her, his eyes silently congratulating her at the hit but smouldering with his anger and pain.

"We used to be an unstoppable duo," Luke continued, rolling his shoulder above his stinging kidney. "So synchronised we didn't need to tell each other what to do."

"I miss those days," Annabeth said simply. "But I've chosen my way and you've chosen yours and the synchronisation we used to have is gone." Annabeth backpedalled at the last moment, avoiding his right fist and then scrambling away from his roundhouse kick.

Luke was right. The two of them were evenly matched, even with Luke being far stronger than her. The first years of their combative life were mainly training and Luke had been a good partner for Annabeth. They sparred constantly, each of them refining their technique until no one else, besides Thalia, were able to match them. Luke had been a tutor then, a patient advisor and an encouraging supporter. Annabeth was agile but her punches lacked the certain force to take her opponents down. Luke had helped her become a weapon; had made her his combative equal.

Months without training or the field experience left both of them severally deficient in their attack combinations. Annabeth was breathing hard from her earlier session, sweat dripping from her pores. She sidestepped, her left fist connecting with the flesh just above his kidneys. She followed it with her right but he spun around to smack it away, wincing at the shot. Luke had grown sloppy in his term of leadership. He was trying to let his emotions direct his punches and forgetting his guard, which were his first rules of combat. As time progressed, Annabeth had almost tripled the amount of connected hits he had managed to weave through her guard.

Annabeth watched his body change as they fought. His shoulders had been tense, his stature brooding and taunt. His emotions dictated his choices, his movements, his speech and he became predictable. The fight progressed and Luke loosened the knots of tension. He altered his stance, dropped his shoulders. Instead of worrying about where to hit, he let instinct guide his fists, wiping emotion from the slate. Fighting Annabeth as they used to eased his anger; the thing she had hoped sparring with her would happen. Annabeth should have seen his next swinging fist come but her mind was preoccupied in his transformation.

His fist connected with her cheek. Annabeth recoiled, her head snapping to the side. His foot connected with her chest, sending her flying across the floor barely giving her time to cry out. Her breath was gone but she rolled with the momentum, coming to a crouch. Gasping, she had only seconds to notice Luke close in her. She rolled out of the way, rising to her feet before taking his knee out under him. He fell to his knee, yelling his anguished cry of pain. Annabeth's arm closed around his neck, the other going under his arm, locking him in her grip. He growled and struggled before he dropping his shoulder, throwing her over his head. She expected this and cushioned her fall with a roll, swiftly turning to face him in a crouch.

He went after her but she had already swept her leg, taking his out from under him. He tumbled to the ground, Annabeth pouncing after him, locking him again in her grip. They were nose to nose, Luke sprawled on his back, Annabeth on top, her legs wrapped around his to prevent him breaking free. They were locked together, each one unwilling to relent, eyes staring into each other, attempting to break their will. Eventually Luke relaxed, knowing he couldn't escape her grip. Annabeth released him, quickly diving to the side and up, making sure he wouldn't try a sneak attack. He rose slowly to his feet, looking at her and nodding slightly as if she had just completed one of his training sessions.

A flash of the old Luke was there, standing in front of her. When he looked at her, a small smile crept onto his face. The feeling of adrenaline and being able to physically wipe out his pent up anger momentarily banished Luke the leader. As if coming to his senses, the smile disappeared, his face becoming again a stoic mask. Annabeth bowed her head when he turned away, getting his belongings and returning the gloves.

Annabeth remained where she was, watching him morph into the leader and executioner of The Extradites in a matter of minutes. Her cheek was stinging and some spots of her chest and ribs were aching but she could easily ignore it. Luke said nothing to her, not even glancing in her direction on the mat. The locker door squeaked and closed with a rattle, breaking the silence. He walked towards the door, pausing when his back was to her.

"You were right," he spoke quietly. "I needed that." He walked to the door and stopped. His shoulders were tense when he faced her again. The Luke that entered the hall was now leaving it. It was that moment staring into his eyes that Annabeth knew beyond doubt Luke would be forever lost and unable to save. "But the next time I face you in a fight; it will be to the death."

* * *

><p>"Question time?" Perseus guessed. He stopped his pacing and faced her with his arms leisurely behind his back. The door closed to the cell behind Annabeth.<p>

"You know it is," was Annabeth's reply.

"Before you start," Perseus held up his hands. "I'll clarify the need to know answers for you. Yes, my hair naturally sits like this. I don't hold a high regard for your guards and I would like a steak for my next meal."

"Are you ever serious?" asked an exasperated Annabeth, taking her seat.

"I was being serious," replied Perseus, outraged.

"You're unbelievable," Annabeth muttered, making Perseus smirk.

"Who hit you?" he queried when the light splayed across her face, illuminating the purple colouring under her eye.

It had started colouring almost immediately after Luke left her in the hall and even Rhonda commented on its darkness five minutes later, slapping a bag of ice against it while Annabeth leant on her arm on the bench top. A bruise was a bruise to Annabeth, whether it lasted longer than others or disappeared in a few days.

"Luke," she replied, adjusting the knife at her belt so she could sit comfortably.

"Ah…" Perseus said, not surprised. "I haven't had the pleasure of seeing Luke since my arrival but I assume he would colour along the same lines as your cheek."

"Why would you assume that?"

He gave her a pointed look. "It's nearly been two weeks and you're fairly easy to read. Who instigated the brawl?"

"I did," she said with a clenched jaw.

"Did you finally tell him he wasn't as handsome as his reflection shows?"

"What year did you join the Dissenters?" asked Annabeth, ignoring his question.

"Gee, that's a bit heavy compared to your last interrogation questions," remarked he. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"I don't have a lot of time. You need to give me something so they won't kill you when I'm away."

"They won't kill me," Perseus scoffed then nodded his head towards the door. "Not when your little pets are protecting me."

"They aren't my pets and they aren't protecting you, I am. They're making sure you are treated with some humanity."

"You think real highly of them," he said dryly.

"They're good people, Perseus, risking their places among companions for my decisions and you're getting off topic."

"I've got a better question. Why did the war even start?"

"The leaders argued amongst each other, tensions arose, sides were formed and they thought fighting was the only way to make the other see their point of view," Annabeth answered automatically, giving him a look that suggested he should already know the answer.

"Yes, but why did they suddenly resort to war? They had been able to resolve their arguments decades prior and who actually fired the first bullet?"

"Does it matter? I thought you didn't care about the history?"

"I consider it useless to blame the current soldiers but you aren't curious about the past?"

"I was years ago but then fighting to stay alive became priority."

"What were your findings?'" Perseus pressed.

Annabeth gazed at him steadily, wondering where his questions had come from. He acted nonchalant but underlying his queries was a motive she had yet to determine. She watched as he walked, occasionally balancing on one foot for a few seconds before striding again. The tincture removed most of the bruises to his face and judging the bundle at the corner of the cell, his ribs at least were returning to full strength. His wrists were still bandaged and occasionally he rubbed at the fabric underneath his sleeve.

"From what I read in journals I procured from Athena and a couple of the other Extradite leaders were that the leaders were constantly arguing about something. Each argument the sides would vary; so no side was ever the same. The entries of writings had hinted of the argument that split the houses entirely but the reason was never fully stated. I asked Athena before she left and she told me it was between the leaders and not for the dwelling minds of underlings."

"She's a real compassionate mother, that one," Perseus noted.

Annabeth looked at him but didn't defend her master. "Her blasé answer suggested to me that it was such a petty thing that had been blown out of proportion but I wasn't about to wound her pride so I kept quiet. Our safe house was attacked a few days later and I nearly died so I studied battle formations, stealth attacks and escape routes instead of worrying about the beginnings of the war."

"Quite a coincidence you were nearly killed after questioning Athena on the reason behind the war."

"The idea did occur to me," admitted Annabeth. "But I recognised the leader charging towards us and he was never on good terms with Athena."

Perseus grinned. "Ares was never one for subtlety," he agreed.

"His protégées were never much better," Annabeth added.

"Terrific fighters though."

"You mean maniacal?"

"Isn't that the same thing in battle?" asked a smirking Perseus.

"Methodical, strategist or maniacal," Annabeth categorised. "Or in your case, damn lucky."

"You do realise that your theory means the reason we have been trying to kill one another is for the pride of bigotry leaders?" Perseus raised an eyebrow. He walked to the wall facing Annabeth and sat against it, watching her.

"It has crossed my mind, once or twice," Annabeth said, with the same blasé tone Athena had used on her all of those years ago.

She wondered whether Athena would be proud to learn how much Annabeth now resembled her cold aloofness and driven mind or whether it still wouldn't be enough. "I think you would find though, most battles have been instigated in such a fashion and even if our people knew, most will either be too scared to speak peace or enjoy the hunt in its entirety that they won't stop until they is no one left to fight."

"I think you've thought about this more than you're letting on," Perseus deduced, looking at her with knowing eyes.

Months to be exact, Annabeth thought but she didn't tell him. It was after the massacre incident Annabeth stumbled across her notes. She had broken it off with Kevin beforehand and had no intention of going to him for comfort even if she desperately wanted someone to comfort her. She remembered ripping out the pages and placing them all separately into her many different journals and files in case another tried to charge her with treason or conspiracy. She frantically found all of them and after reading them, began to doubt her entire role since the leaders disappeared.

"So, Athena huh?" Perseus asked, interrupting her thoughts and breaking the silence. He was settled against the wall, one leg propped up so he could rest his arm on it.

"Yes," Annabeth said breezily, turning her attention back to him.

"Why her?"

Annabeth sighed. "She took me in and saved my life."

"She took you in?"

"What business is that of yours?" she asked pointedly.

"Curiousity," he said simply, gazing at her.

Annabeth looked away, clenching her jaw. She never revealed her past to anyone, not even Kevin who used to ask on occasion. Realising her answers were vague at best, he stopped questioning her. Thalia and Luke were the only ones who knew the whole story and since the war Annabeth wanted to keep it that way. Yet, something inside her wanted to talk to Perseus, wanted him to know. If she opened up slightly, maybe then he would be more open with her.

"I ran away from home when I was seven, lived on the streets for a year or two until I got caught stealing from a politician."

"You tried to steal from Athena?" Perseus was surprised.

"I _stole_ from her," Annabeth corrected. "But she caught me as I made my escape. Spent the day at the station, planning my excuses and how I would ditch the officers when she came in, all regal like."

"Sounds like her," Perseus snorted.

"You met Athena?" Now Annabeth was surprised.

"Once or twice," he replied vaguely. "What happened when she met you at the station?"

"Asked me what I was doing? Where were my parents, the usual sort of interrogation but the way she looked at me with those imposing eyes, I couldn't lie to her. I broke down and admitted everything and next thing I knew I was being offered one of her spare rooms."

"Athena was never one to adopt kids unless she could see potential," Perseus mused, rubbing his hairy jawline. "I never saw her as a mentor or parent though. She was so … stiff."

"There were times when she expected you to know the correct decision and when you didn't she let you know how disappointed she was but mostly she treated you as an adult, almost like an equal in retrospect."

"It sounds like you didn't have much of a childhood."

"I didn't want one."

"Is that why you ran away from home?"

"Does that matter?" Annabeth's tone hardened.

Perseus sighed. "I can see I've come across a touchy subject but if you didn't want me to know then you wouldn't have answered my first question."

Annabeth wanted to glare at him but he made a valid point. "Dad got remarried. Had two kids with her but the problem was just, her. She didn't like me, I could see that but Dad never did. So I just left, knowing it was what the majority wanted and I haven't seen him since."

"You don't even know if they're alive?" Perseus whistled softly. Annabeth shook her head. "Doesn't that bother you?"

"Not really," Annabeth said quickly, wanting to change the subject. "Why Poseidon?"

"Bit hard to turn down your own father," Perseus huffed out.

"Poseidon's your …" Annabeth breathed out, shocked.

"My dear old Pa, yeah." Perseus got to his feet and started pacing. "So I guess your answer about my recruitment was really conscription from the start. I had no choice but to be at my father's side, defend his name. I was supposed to see it as an honour, being selected as one of his top generals. He didn't understand why I began to hate him or accused him of turning me into a monster. He saw a prize fighter, going to win the war for him and his allies." Perseus lifted his head toward the hole in the cell, his green eyes brightening from the dim afternoon sunlight pooling through. "He stopped seeing me as a son."

"Is that when you pulled away from your father?"

"No, but that should have been my first warning."

His head dropped falling into the shadows. His shoulders had stiffened, his fists clenching at his sides. Annabeth could read his body language easily.

"You feel guilty over something that happened? Did someone die?"

Perseus tilted his head and gave her a brief, saddened smile. "A lot of people have died, Chase."

"But this one was personal," Annabeth pursued. Perseus' clenched jaw confirmed her theory. "It was Poseidon's fault, wasn't it?"

"He never believed so but a week after that he disappeared, refusing to acknowledge me as his son."

"You went rogue because you were disowned?" asked a snide voice behind them.

Annabeth spun, leaping to her feet, hand going to her knife hilt. Perseus turned too, though his expression was calculated, expressionless. Tim stood on the outside of the door, eyes gleaming. Malcolm was standing behind him, his expression apologetic when Annabeth caught it. He obviously didn't have a choice. It was Tim's expression, however, that concerned her. She wondered how much he had overheard.

"Well, well, well we have the honour of accommodating a son of Poseidon. Luke would be most interested to hear your heritage." He faced Annabeth then, a sneer prominent in the light. "It seems your questioning wasn't a complete waste of time after all. Too bad your team has been called for scouting duty. I guess someone else will have to continue the interrogation."

Tim turned and left, not without giving Annabeth a victorious smirk as he left. Annabeth went to go after him but a light touch on the elbow of her jacket stopped her. Perseus was beside her, his intense green eyes gazing at her. Once she paused, he let his arm drop down to his side.

"Let him go," he murmured. His eyes went to the door, Malcolm watching the two of them curiously but then going back to his notes. Perseus turned his head away and then his body, retreating to the back of the cell.

"You knew he was there," Annabeth stated, crossing her arms over her chest indignantly.

"He has a peculiar way of shuffling his feet when he tries to be stealthy," Perseus noted, facing her with his arms resting behind his back. "I wouldn't worry about your past becoming known, he was late arriving."

"You told him the relationship between yourself and Poseidon so they think they have something over you," Annabeth deduced. "When really it's just useless information."

Perseus smiled broadly, confirming her statement. "You may just get us out of here yet, Chase."

Annabeth glared at him.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for the continual support guys. Another long chapter I know but I couldn't find a convenient place to end it earlier. A little bit of history and backgrounds for Annabeth and Perseus. They are starting to trust each other a little more but like all good dramas, nothing is set in stone. Keep your reviews coming.<strong>


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